


Me No Speako Italiano

by FuryRed



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryRed/pseuds/FuryRed
Summary: During a summer vacation in Northern Italy, Oliver's ineffectual command of the Italian language means he ends up embarrassing himself in front of the cute boy he hopes to impress. Repeatedly.But at least the object of Oliver’s affections seems to find his behaviour endearing, as shown when Oliver's new crush Elio offers to act as his translator during the remaining three weeks of Oliver's vacation. Of course, it isn't long until Oliver finds himself falling for his new companion, and consequently dreading the moment when he will have to leave Italy, and Elio, for good...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I haven't ballsed up the Italian, but if I have please feel free to tell me <3

 

 

There are words running through Oliver’s head as he stands in the shadow of the Cappella Colleoni, gazing at the scene around him as tourists amble though the busy area. In the sky above the sun is high and bright, casting powerful rays across the landscape and sending temperatures soaring, and as Oliver looks around the area he listens to the perpetual hubbub of sound that fills the air- numerous voices talking and laughing in a variety of languages; some Oliver understands and many he does not. Prior to deciding to vacation in Italy Oliver made sure to brush up on his understanding of the Italian language, but regardless he realises he can claim no mastery of it. He knows how to communicate in basic terms, enough to get him by as long as he keeps to the more touristy areas, but anything more commanding than that will probably require Oliver to rely on his American charm alone and hope that it might make up for his lack of comprehension.

It's early afternoon and as such temperatures are at their peak, making Oliver's mouth grow increasingly dry and parched as he looks around the immediate vicinity, hoping to locate some small cafe or similar where he can find refreshment. Across the courtyard an archway leads to where Oliver hopes there might be such amenities, and after taking one last look at the beautiful church that imposes over the scene and snapping a final picture, Oliver turns and starts to walk away. At least, that is his intention, but as soon as Oliver turns around he only takes one step before barrelling heavily into the person in front of him, almost knocking them over.

“Ah, _scusa_!” Oliver immediately blurts out, instinctively grasping the other person by one arm in an attempt to save them from tumbling to the ground. The beginning of another sentence starts to form- a continuation of the same apology- but suddenly the words seem to disappear from Oliver’s mind, like they are little more than water evaporating under the hot Italian sun.

“Uhh...”

Oliver knows he is staring, but he just can't seem to help himself. The young man standing in front of Oliver is _beautiful_ , and rather suddenly Oliver feels his mouth dry for more reasons than just the heat as he stands there, still gripping the stranger's arm like cannot seem to let go. As Oliver gazes helplessly he fully takes in the appearance of the person before himself, regarding a slim build dressed in a t-shirt and patterned shorts, eyes that seem mostly green but with flecks of hazel in them, full red lips, and a jawline like cut glass. He's shorter than Oliver but in a way that Oliver likes, a way that has Oliver imagining how the younger man’s head would fit comfortably under his chin where they to embrace, so that Oliver could press his face into that unruly mop of brown hair to see if it's as soft as he imagines it is. Of course for such a thing to happen first Oliver would need to actually _speak_ to the stranger, and he doesn't seem to be getting very far in that regard.

“Uhhhhh...”

The young man smiles somewhat shyly, and Oliver feels a tremor of desire run through his body at the sight- evident in the way his fingers flex where they are still pressed against the stranger's bicep. Oliver shakes his head as if to restore some sense to it, and lets go at last before taking a small step away.

" _Mi dispiace_...” Oliver mumbles, managing to remember enough of the Italian language to at least offer some kind of apology. Whether it is accepted or not though is entirely up for debate, because in response the stranger immediately starts to answer in kind- long sentences in Italian tumbling gracefully off his lips, leaving Oliver feeling completely clueless. He manages to understand a word here and there but it gives him no real comprehension of the nature of what is being said, and consequently Oliver can only stare further, almost certain that he is coming across as a complete idiot.

Things only get worse when the stranger finishes speaking, when he stands there gazing up at Oliver- that same shy smile playing about his lips. As the seconds pass the smile begins to fade, suggesting to Oliver that he is expecting some kind of response that is so far distinctly lacking, and it leaves Oliver scrambling for something to say. Of course, as soon as Oliver does formulate a response he soon wishes that he had just said nothing at all...

“Um... Me no speako Italiano...”

The time after Oliver has spoken seems to stretch on endlessly; countless seconds passing by during which the young man only stares up at Oliver, the meaning in his expression imperceptible. All around Oliver people continue to swarm about the area, their voices like background noise that remains in soft focus given Oliver's attention has been entirely stolen- like there is suddenly no one else in the world but the two of them. For a moment Oliver wonders if he has offended the stranger somehow given the fact that he isn't saying anything, but then slowly that same small smile starts to return, grows wider and brighter, until it finally turns into a joyful, beautiful laugh that is very much like music to Oliver’s ears.

“Yeah, well- it sounds like you don't speak English all that great either...”

Though Oliver knows it's somewhat uncharacteristic he feels himself start to blush, embarrassment causing his face to flush with colour as he thinks about how he has just made a complete fool of himself. Oliver runs a hand back through his hair as he tries to think of a way to redeem himself in some shape or form, but in the end all he can do is smile sheepishly at the stranger and hope his idiocy will be pardoned.

“Ah, yes- sorry about that...” Oliver replies eventually. “It's the heat, I think- it's fried my brain... I promise you I normally have a much finer command of the English language, and I’m usually less clumsy too. I’m sorry for running into you. I'm Oliver, by the way”.

Oliver extends his hand, reassured when it is immediately seized and politely shook.

“Elio. It's nice to meet you”.

“Likewise. So, you're American too? What brings you to Italy?”

“My family's Italian so we come here every summer. What about you?”

“Vacation. I've got some time off before I return to work, so I thought I'd spend a few weeks of it here seeing the sights. Of course, I now wish I'd brushed up on my Italian a bit more before I got on the plane...”

“Well they do say it's easier to pick up a language if you immerse yourself in the country, so you might be alright. How long are you here for anyway?”

“A little under three weeks”.

As soon as Oliver says the words he sees the impression they make on Elio, evident in the way his smile fades slightly and his eyes lower. If Oliver didn't know any better he would say that Elio looks almost disappointed; an assumption that seems very much like hopeful promise to Oliver, given he already knows that he would very much like to get to know Elio better- even if it is only for a limited time.

“Are you busy today?” Oliver asks optimistically, prompting Elio to look up to meet his eyes once more. “As you've already seen I’m proving to be somewhat of an abysmal tourist... I could really do with someone to help show me around the area- like where to get a drink, for example?”

Elio gazes up at Oliver and in the sunlight he is exquisite- sweet and alluring, with skin like the fine marble of the statues Oliver looked at earlier in the day as he stood in the Accademia Carrara. Oliver remembers running his fingertips gently over one of those statues, imagines doing the same thing over Elio’s face and body now- caressing him carefully before following the same path with his lips and tongue. It's something Oliver realises he wants rather desperately even though he has only just met Elio, almost as if the way he feels is something entirely out of his hands; an uncontrollable fate, or the illusion of such. But just then Oliver realises that Elio hasn't actually agreed to anything yet, and it seems like he isn't going to...

Elio shifts uncomfortably where he stands, sucking in a deep breath and clenching his fists once before releasing his grip.

“I'm here with my family today...” Elio starts to reply. “My mom and dad are waiting for me right now, in fact, so I really can't help you. I want to”, Elio adds quickly, leaving Oliver with some residual hope. “But I can't”.

Oliver tries to swallow down his disappointment enough in order to respond.

“Oh... Well, that's alright- I understand if you already have plans. I'm sure I'll be okay anyway- it's not like I can possibly make more of an idiot of myself than I already have”.

“I’m not so sure about that...” Elio replies, causing Oliver to let out a brief laugh.

“Yes, well- I suppose we'll have to see”, Oliver says, smiling widely.

Just then a voice calls Elio's name from across the courtyard, and Oliver looks over to see a man and a woman standing together beside a metal fence. The woman makes some sort of gesture which clearly Elio understands the meaning of as he replies by shouting: “ _Solo un minuto_!” before turning back to Oliver.

“Ah, I've gotta go... Um, listen- if you have any more translation problems maybe you could text me or something? You know, if you want to...”

“That would be great”, Oliver replies quickly, instantly reaching into the pocket of his shorts to retrieve his phone. Oliver unlocks the device and hands it to Elio who accepts it immediately, before starting to key in his number and then passing it back to Oliver once he is done.

“Great- thank you”, Oliver says, smiling at Elio warmly. “I’m sure I'll be in touch”.

“Cool. I'll look forward to your touch... Uh, text!” Elio corrects quickly, his eyes growing wide. “I'll look forward to your text...”

It's charming the way Elio's face screws up slightly, his nose scrunching as if he is internally berating himself, and in return Oliver can only smile- feeling more and more charmed by every second he spends with Elio. But already Oliver knows it cannot last for long, and as such he is unsurprised but still somewhat disappointed when Elio takes a couple of steps back as if he is reluctantly retreating.

“I'm gonna go now... I'll see you around”.

Oliver nods, watching Elio leave, before simply responding with: “Later”.

Elio turns around and starts to walk over to the people waiting for him, but even as he moves some distance away Oliver hears his parting response.

“But not too much later, I hope!”

 

 

 

For the rest of the day Oliver amuses himself further by continuing to see the sights of the beautiful city of Bergamo, fortunately avoiding any further social mishaps thanks in large part to Elio's help.

Oliver texts him almost immediately of course, unable to wait for too long after Elio has disappeared out of sight before sending him a brief message- just consisting of his name and a small American flag emoticon, so Elio knows who it is. In less than a minute Oliver receives a similar response- Elio's name accompanied by an Italian flag- and then a couple of minutes later gets another text saying: _“Can I call you Olly?”_ Oliver is sure he would permit Elio to call him anything as long as he gets to hear the words spoken softly from Elio's lips, so he sends back his consent before finally leaving the courtyard in search of refreshment.

Throughout the rest of the day Oliver keeps in contact with Elio, sending him texts and pictures and asking for assistance in translating some of the signs he sees. Of course Oliver doesn’t need _quite_ as much help as he is making out, as mostly he is using the translation assistance as a way to talk to Elio, and it seems to work as Elio answers every question almost instantly. However, around two hours their exchange Elio eventually sends a message to Oliver to ask: _“Are you really this bad at Italian?”_ Oliver has been pretending as much all afternoon and as such he knows he cannot back down now, so he continues to feign ignorance and simply tells Elio that he hasn't used his Italian in years so he's just really out of practice. To Oliver’s relief Elio seems to believe the lie, but the wording of his response prompts a certain level of intrigue:

_“I guess we'll have to go back to basics then...”_

Later that night, Oliver finds out what Elio means.

After spending the afternoon seeing the sights of the city Oliver enjoys a quiet dinner by himself before retiring to his hotel room for the evening, somewhat exhausted from the day's events. A long spell in the shower helps to alleviate some of the physical wear caused by the lengthy day, and afterwards Oliver dresses in thin pyjama pants before retiring to bed, leaving the window leading to a small Juliet balcony open in an attempt to combat the heat, and hoping the sounds of activity coming from outside quieten before long.

When Oliver reaches the bed he flings back the sheets and lies down on the mattress, adjusting so that he is comfortable before realising there is a small blinking light coming from the bedside table that signifies he has received a message on his phone. Without hesitation Oliver leans over to grasp the device, unlocking it as he sits upright and already smiling as he hopes and assumes that the message will be from Elio- which it is, though the content is not what Oliver was expecting. Rather than a text as usual instead Elio has sent a picture message, and as Oliver opens it immediately his mouth begins to dry.

The words spread across the image don't quite sink into Oliver's brain at first, given he is so distracted by what's in the background, but eventually Oliver comprehends the meaning in the displayed text declaring: _“A is for Anca”_.

There on the screen is a picture of a smooth, hairless torso, centred on the abdomen where the waistband of underwear is pulled down to reveal one pointed hip dotted with freckles that seem to Oliver like glowing stardust. Oliver stares at the image and remembers the part of his Italian phrasebook that referred to body parts, recalling that ‘l'anca' of course meant 'the hip', and smiling as he realises what Elio is doing.

Of course amusement isn't the only emotion Oliver experiences as he stares at the image on the screen. Within Oliver’s body a deep feeling of arousal begins to pool, spurred on by contemplation of what it would be like to be wherever Elio is now, to press his mouth to that same hip and swipe his tongue across it to hear Elio groan, to trail his lips across Elio's stomach as his underwear is pulled down, to nibble and suck at the sensitive line where Elio's groin meets his thigh until Elio’s cock is hard and flushed and he is _begging_ Oliver to touch him. It's what Oliver wants most desperately- a need that is only made more palpable by the fact that Oliver cannot have him, not right now at least.

The second message only exacerbates Oliver's desire further. Oliver’s phone beeps again and another picture fills the screen- this one an image of the lower half of Elio's face, showing plump red lips that are parted slightly, prompting all kinds of wanton thought within Oliver’s mind as he contemplates kissing that gorgeous mouth, learning the taste of Elio and how he likes to be kissed, hearing him moan in response. The words imprinted on the image say: _“B is for Bocca”_ , but even without having to wrack his brain too considerably Oliver realises that he already knows the word for ‘mouth', though he is more than grateful for the lesson...

It takes entirely too long for the third message to arrive, time in which Oliver sits on the bed staring at the two images he has received so far, flicking back and forth between them as he imagines himself and Elio in all sorts of unmentionable guises- a train of thought that quickly has the front of Oliver's pyjama pants tenting considerably... Oliver finds it hard to resist the urge to touch himself but he refrains for now, eager to find out what ‘C’ stands for, and hoping it is somewhat similar to the English word he is thinking of. But after a while Oliver cannot stand the wait anymore and so he texts Elio to ask: _“C is for...?”_ , only being kept in suspense a little while longer before he receives a response, though not quite the one he was hoping for.

The image this time is not of some part of Elio, it is of a small piece of paper advertising what looks to be a music festival- prompting confusion to run through Oliver's mind as he reads the words: _“C is for Crema”_ , and tries to discern what they mean. Even after staring at the picture for almost a minute Oliver still doesn't understand the relevance of Elio's message, other than the fact that he knows Crema is a city around an hour's drive from Bergamo, but then Elio sends through a text that explains everything.

_“The festival is this weekend. My friends and I are going. Would you like to join us?”_

Instantly a pleased smile begins to spread over Oliver’s face as he regards the message, overjoyed to realise that he is being given the opportunity to see Elio again- something he’d hoped for but that he had no idea how he was going to be able to orchestrate. Originally Oliver had planned to head further north after he was finished with the sights in Bergamo, but now with Elio's offer in mind he finds himself reconsidering his original intentions.

_“Volentieri”_ , Oliver replies simply.

Letting out a contented sigh Oliver flops back against the pillows, closing his eyes and smiling happily as he thinks about the weekend to come. In a short while Oliver's phone beeps again to signify the arrival of another message, and when Oliver opens it he sees a series of smiley faces from Elio accompanied by words: _“Your Italian is improving- I guess you don't need picture aides anymore...”_ Of course Oliver can't have Elio believing such a thing so he quickly responds to protest his ignorance, prompting an exchange that continues late into the night and that ultimately results in one kind of sentiment:

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours..._


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

For the next two days Oliver continues to exchange messages with Elio, sending pictures and texts to each other as meanwhile Oliver counts down the seconds until the upcoming weekend. Of course there are numerous wonderful sights to command Oliver's attention as he travels from Bergamo to the surrounding areas, immersing himself in the beauty of the Italian scenery and its many landmarks, but still there is nothing more captivating to Oliver than the sight of a message from Elio popping up on his phone.

In a relatively short space of time Oliver's phone becomes filled with texts from Elio as they discuss Oliver’s vacation, Elio's summer with his family, and eventually topics of a much wider scale- like what Oliver does for a living and what Elio's plans are for when the summer is over. The answer to that particular question prompts a certain thrill to run through Oliver, because it turns out that Elio is due to attend Columbia University in the fall, meaning he will only be a short distance away from where Oliver resides in Queens. It’s perhaps too early for Oliver to assume anything but it is at least reassuring to know that his time with Elio might not just be comprised of a few weeks and nothing more, and that they may have some kind of future involvement with each other should they so wish.

It's an idea Oliver increasingly favours, because the more he talks to Elio the more he warms to him- charmed by his wit and intelligence and humour, entranced by his youth and beauty. The texts Oliver receives from Elio make him smile, make him laugh, make him think. The images Oliver receives make him _want_ Elio- almost viscerally, like some overwhelming, compelling force is taking over his body, making his pulse race and his cock harden as he regards the photos Elio has sent- mostly innocent enough images of Elio enjoying the sunshine or hanging out with his friends, along with one video that Oliver grows to treasure of Elio playing the piano in what is presumably his family home.

Occasionally though the images Oliver receives are rather more incendiary, though never entirely explicit in nature- almost as if Elio knows exactly how to tease Oliver and to leave him wanting more. Still, it is compelling enough to receive little more than an image of Elio's lithe body sprawled across a bed, the lower half of his face tucked into his folded arms as he gazes at the camera, the curve of his buttocks just visible in shot. Oliver considers himself fortunate that those images are most often sent at night when Oliver is sitting in his hotel room at the end of a long day, because he knows were he to receive them when he was out in public he would likely risk making somewhat of a spectacle of himself...

By the time the weekend arrives Oliver is unbelievably excited at the thought of seeing Elio once more, though he manages to contain his enthusiasm in order to ensure he presents a composed front as the train he is in arrives at the station in Crema. Already Oliver can see Elio waiting on the platform, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and with sunglasses obscuring some of his expression as he watches the train arrive. It's perhaps a little embarrassing the way Oliver’s heart skips a beat at the sight of him, but after three days of thinking about Elio incessantly Oliver's mind is whirring and his pulse is racing, and all he wants to do is to get off of the train and immediately pull Elio into his arms.

Oliver doesn't, of course. He steps onto the platform and smiles at Elio warmly, and though his hands tremble with an urge to touch he keeps them to himself for now, and instead offers Elio a fond greeting as he watches Elio remove his sunglasses.

“ _Ciao_ , Elio. It’s good to see you”.

“You too. How was the journey?”

“Oh, you know- long...” Oliver says with a sigh. “Hot. Cramped. I had to sit turned to the side so that my knees didn't knock against the person sitting opposite me. I don't see why they can't make the carriages a bit bigger”.

“Well they make them for normal-sized people, not giants...”

Oliver laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “Is that so? Well, I guess I should just stick to specialised cars and taxis in future, hmm?”

“It might be for the best...” Elio replies, smiling slyly.

They both lapse back into silence after that and for a while they just gaze at each other, mutually captivated even though all around them there is the sound of people conversing as they move through the area. Once again it is like the whole world has fallen away, as if the entirety of Oliver's existence is composed solely of this one person who has proven to be most compelling part of time spent in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. It's different somehow to the kinds of attractions Oliver has experienced before, something of a greater magnitude for reasons Oliver cannot quite explain, and as such he knows there is little point even trying to comprehend the how or why, because some things are perfect enough as they are without being questioned.

“So... Are you ready to head to the music festival?” Elio asks eventually.

Oliver nods. “Absolutely. By all means- lead the way”.

Elio smiles at Oliver again, before putting his sunglasses back on as he turns around and then starts to head over to the exit. Oliver follows Elio willingly, finding it is enjoyable just watching Elio as he moves- admiring the way he walks with a kind of swagger; some musicality of form. It's endearing like all parts of Elio are, every aspect something new that charms and enthrals Oliver, because though the area around them continues to be crowded with people Oliver’s vision is singular, composed of just this one person who commands his attention and keeps him, captivating him entirely.

 

A short while later Oliver is in the centre of Crema, where he remains for the rest of the day as he enjoys the festivities with Elio. The music festival has turned the city into a riot of colour and sound, and Oliver soon finds himself embracing the event as he drinks Italian beer and listens to the bands who are playing and eventually ends up on the dancefloor with Elio, moving to the music as the sun begins to set. All around Oliver people are swaying to the rhythm, including some friends of Elio's who Oliver was introduced to earlier, but like always Oliver has eyes for only one person. The music runs through Oliver's veins prompting his feet to follow, and as Oliver dances he watches Elio in front of him, coveting the shape of his body and the way he moves, and thinking of what it would be like to kiss him for the first time.

That occasion happens much later in the day, after the night has drawn in and Oliver has found his head to be growing increasingly fuzzy as a result of the alcohol he has imbued. Oliver sits with Elio on the wall surrounding a fountain, listening to the gentle sound of the water flowing as in the background the muted noise of music and people partying filters into the night. The nearest person is some distance away meaning Oliver and Elio are granted the first real privacy they have shared all day, and it's comforting to be able to sit next to Elio so that their shoulders are touching, soothed by the closeness of Elio and the scent of his skin.

“I've thought about you constantly since the day we met...”

Such disclosures always seem to come so easily for Elio- an indicator of his youth and a suggestion to Oliver that this is someone whose pure heart has never been damaged by the undeniable cruelness of the world. It has likely never been broken, like Oliver’s has, and as such Oliver realises then how much he wants to keep Elio's heart safe, and to protect it always.

“I’ve thought about you too...” Oliver replies softly, gazing at Elio- at the side of his face that is visible given Elio is staring down at the ground in front of himself rather than looking at Oliver. Intoxication makes Oliver more transparent than he would usually be, so he adds: “Do you know how happy I am that we met?”

Elio shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Um, I have a slight confession to make about that though...”

“You do?”

“Yeah... We didn't exactly meet by accident”.

Oliver's brows draw together in confusion as he looks at Elio and remembers running into him- quite literally, in fact. Of course what Elio is saying now doesn't make complete sense, and when he doesn't elaborate further Oliver can't help giving Elio a quick nudge with his shoulder to try and spur him on.

“Ugh, this is embarrassing...” Elio says eventually. “But I saw you before- when you first went into the Cappella Colleoni. I wanted to speak to you so I hung around the area waiting for you to come back out, and when you left the church I walked over to you and got in your way, so you would bump into me. It's stupid I know, but--"

“It's not stupid”, Oliver interrupts, placing one hand on Elio's knee and squeezing lightly. Instantly Elio tenses, before easing out as Oliver's fingers press against his skin.

“I'm glad you did that...” Oliver adds. When Elio doesn't respond Oliver lifts his other hand and places one curled finger underneath Elio's chin, coaxing Elio to turn his head which thankfully he does almost immediately.

It's dark in the area they're sitting, only moonlight from above combined with the faint glow of faraway streetlamps illuminating the scene, meaning much of Elio's face is in shadow as Oliver regards him, stroking the underside of Elio's chin gently. Oliver keeps his eyes focused on Elio’s face as he leans in, looking for some sign of objection but finding nothing but patent want. Elio has had the same number of beers as Oliver and the level of his intoxication is evident in the way he is swaying slightly as he sits there, which means that Oliver is inclined to be especially careful as he leans in to kiss Elio- not wanting to take advantage of him in any way. But Elio displays nothing but acquiescence as he leans in reciprocally, lips parting in the expectation of a kiss that is wilfully given.

When their mouths meet it is the culmination of days of desire and wanton thought- a slow and sensual embrace that soon has Elio's fists clenching in the front of Oliver’s shirt like he can't help but cling on to him. Oliver cradles the back of Elio's head with one hand as he kisses him, fingers entwined in hair that is indeed as soft as Oliver suspected it might be. It feels so good to be that close to Elio that already Oliver wishes they could stay like this indefinitely, but then there is the sudden noise of laughter and singing coming from nearby, and Oliver and Elio are prompted to quickly separate.

Oliver looks across the courtyard to regard Elio's friends approaching, all walking in a line with their arms linked together, their movements distinctly wobbly as they stumble forward. The song they are singing is unrecognisable, probably thanks in large parts to the fact that the people singing it are incredibly drunk, and Oliver can't help but wince slightly as he listens to the tuneless sound.

“I think the festival is over”, Elio says, watching his friends as they continue to make a show of themselves.

“It seems to be the case. I guess I should be heading to my hotel for the night”.

Oliver stands upright, finding that as soon as his feet hit the floor the scene before him begins to spin thanks to his alcohol-soaked brain; whirling for a moment before resettling at last.

“I don't want you to go...” Elio mumbles, prompting Oliver to turn back to regard him.

“I have to. I'm booked in at the Hotel L'... Uh... Something... The Hotel _Pompino_ , I think”.

Immediately Elio starts to laugh, though he brings his hand to his face in an apparent attempt to suppress his amusement.

“The 'Hotel _Blowjob'_?” Elio asks, his expression plainly mocking. “I've never heard of it. Perhaps you should take me there sometime...”

Instantly Oliver feels a surge of embarrassment run through his body as he tries to think of a way to explain how he knows that _particular_ word, but all avenues come up short and all Oliver can really do is try to move past the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I have the name wrong- but I am booked in somewhere”, Oliver says eventually, kneeling down beside the fountain as he reaches into his backpack to attempt to find the booking confirmation he printed off earlier. It's hard to see in the dim light and Oliver has difficulty locating the paperwork in amongst his belongings, but after a short while Oliver feels Elio's hand slide slowly into his hair, and he loses his concentration as he tilts his head to find Elio watching him.

“Olly... Why don't you stay with me tonight?” Elio asks, stroking his fingers gently through Oliver's hair.

“With you? Where?”

“My family's house is just in the next town”.

“And you think your parents would approve of that- me staying with you?”

“Well, it's after midnight so I wasn't exactly planning to introduce you... But I can sneak you in”.

Oliver stares at Elio for a long minute as he considers the suggestion, knowing the idea of spending the night with Elio is one that is _extremely_ appealing. But before Oliver can open his mouth to respond there is an increased din coming from nearby as Elio’s friends start to recite some sort of drunken chant, prompting both Oliver and Elio to watch them for a long moment.

“Would they be coming with us...?” Oliver asks with some trepidation.

Elio smiles, shaking his head. “No- everyone else is crashing at Marzia's place. It'd just me you and me...”

“And your parents...”

Elio nudges Oliver playfully with his foot, before removing his hand from Oliver's hair and instead shifting to sit with his fists clenched in his lap.

“If you don't want to come you don't have to...” Elio says, his expression slightly withdrawn. “But I think it's preferable to spending the rest of the night wandering around the city attempting to locate whatever hotel it is you're actually staying at”.

After he has finished speaking Elio turns his head to the side, leaving Oliver to stare at the gorgeous line of his profile bathed in soft light from the streetlamps. Without saying another word Oliver stands up and leans over where Elio is sitting, pressing a simple kiss to his lips and prompting a loud chorus of “Oooooh!”s from the nearby crowd of drunken revellers.

“Alright- take me home”, Oliver murmurs against Elio's lips.

Elio smiles widely, before replying simply: “ _Perfetto_...”

 

It takes some time to get to Elio's family home, not least because the group they are travelling with is extremely rowdy, resulting in a lot of cheering and singing and amiable chatter before eventually they all part ways, leaving Oliver and Elio alone at last. When they arrive at the house there is little sound other than the low hum of insects in the background, meaning Elio and Oliver are forced to be especially cautious as they enter the property, taking off their shoes to minimise noise as Oliver follows Elio upstairs. Fortunately there is no one to witness as Oliver is ushered into Elio's room, at least not until Oliver is safely inside the space and he hears the sound of footsteps and a voice coming from down the hallway, and Elio shoves Oliver the rest of the way into the room before closing the door behind him.

Oliver stumbles into the dark room before finding his feet, listening as outside the door hushed voices begin to speak to each other- one Elio's, the other unknown. Though Oliver cannot quite understand all the words being said he can tell that the female voice speaking to Elio sounds annoyed, making Oliver suspect that perhaps the person in question is not particularly happy with Elio staying out late. Part of Oliver wonders if maybe he should go outside and attempt to smooth over the situation somehow, but he recognises that it's probably not best to interfere in a family argument and so he remains where he is, and hopes Elio will be joining him soon.

When Elio finally does re-enter the room it is a few minutes later, and Oliver has spent the intervening time casting his eyes over the belongings in the area- books and CDs and clothing all presumably owned by Elio. Oliver ends up leaning against the footboard of the bed as he waits for Elio, and as soon as Elio enters and closes the door firmly behind himself Oliver can't help but smile at the sight of him.

“Hi...” Oliver starts, ensuring he keeps his voice low. “I’ve not got you into too much trouble, have I?”

Elio shakes his head. “Not really. That was Mafalda- our housekeeper. She worries about me staying out too late or drinking too much or not eating properly... She cares, you know- but it's a little stifling all the same. Either way she doesn't know that you're here”.

“Oh, good”, Oliver replies, watching as Elio approaches in perhaps the most indirect way possible. He walks past Oliver at first, his hands clasped behind his back as if he is intending to appear nonchalant, but as soon as he has passed Elio immediately turns around, stepping closer to Oliver and slumping entirely into his body- as if he already knows that Oliver is going to catch him.

Oliver smiles as he wraps his arms around Elio, cradling the back of his head as Elio tilts his face up so he can meet Oliver's eyes. It's dark in the room- only soft moonlight illuminating the scene- but regardless Oliver can see enough of Elio's expression to recognise how much he is practically _begging_ to be kissed- as if the fact that he is pressed entirely up against Oliver’s body were not already evidence enough of that. Oliver leans closer and kisses Elio, emboldened by the way Elio actively _moans_ into Oliver's mouth in response, his hands grasping the tops of Oliver's thighs firmly. Already Oliver can feel that Elio is hard and it's something he wants to explore desperately, but at the same time he can taste the alcohol in Elio's mouth and as such he knows that a certain amount of restraint is required.

Of course, good intentions are often made to be tested, because as soon as Oliver pulls away from the kiss Elio leans back and looks up at him, mouth parted and stars in his eyes as he murmurs: “Fuck me, Olly...”

Instantly Oliver's mouth dries, his own cock hardening considerably at just the mere thought of taking Elio to bed, of lying down in sheets that smell like him, of kissing and touching him until he is shivery and desperately aroused and actively _begging_ for Oliver's cock, and only then giving it to him. More than once Oliver has considered what Elio would look like, what he would sound like as Oliver pushes his member inside, what it would _feel_ like, if Elio could take it. Oliver desperately wants to find out of course, but at the same time he knows that some things are undoubtedly worth waiting for.

“I can't...” Oliver says quietly, rubbing his thumbs against Elio’s jawline as he continues to cup his face.

Disappointment manifests in Elio's expression as Oliver contemplates pressing his mouth to Elio's forehead to smooth out the line of his brow.

“But... why not? Don't you want this?”

Oliver smiles softly, leaning close to press a brief kiss to Elio's cheek, and knowing that only someone so pure could ask something so innocent.

“Nothing in life is ever so simple that it should give us exactly what we want all the time...” Oliver replies.

The answer only seems to confuse Elio more given the way he screws up his face adorably, prompting Oliver to feel the need to elaborate.

“Elio it's late, and we've both had a lot to drink. How about we just get some sleep, and sometime soon you let me take you out on a real date- just the two of us. I know we only have a limited time before I leave but I don't want to rush things, okay?”

It doesn't really seem like Elio agrees in the least, given the way he is still leaning heavily into Oliver’s body, but eventually he lowers his gaze and nods a few times, before stepping back and folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“Um, there's a spare room next door... You can stay there if you don't want to sleep with me. In my bed, I mean”.

“Is that what you want?” Oliver asks.

Elio shakes his head but still doesn't look Oliver in the eyes.

“You want me to stay here with you?”

A nod from Elio, but still no explicit response.

Oliver sighs and takes a step closer, grasping Elio gently on the upper arms and squeezing lightly, prompting Elio to look up at last. As soon as he does Oliver kisses him once more, feeling some of the tension leave Elio's body as he softens into the embrace.

“Let's get some rest, okay Elio?” Oliver says softly afterwards, his lips brushing against Elio’s.

“Okay”, Elio replies, before he takes Oliver by the hand and begins to lead him towards the bed.

 

That night Oliver falls asleep with Elio tucked up against the side of his body, soft and warm as he sleeps soundly, one of his arms draped lazily over Oliver's waist. For a while Oliver can only watch him, enjoying the low sound of his breathing and the way he sometimes mumbles in his sleep, the corners of his lips drawing up briefly in a small smile each time as if he is dreaming about something particularly amusing. Oliver leans over to press a gentle kiss to Elio’s forehead before he closes his eyes, allowing a sense of peace to settle over him as he relaxes and prepares to sleep.

Oliver knows he can only stay at the Perlman family home for a short while longer. Already the sky is beginning to lighten, the sun gradually starting to herald the start of a new day, and Oliver has already told himself that he will need to leave before the rest of the house starts to wake up, lest he get Elio into any more trouble. But for now Oliver is content to remain there, feeling the warmth of Elio at his side, and knowing that there is nowhere else he would rather be.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

When Oliver awakens the following morning he already knows he has slept in far longer than he intended to. As his eyes slowly crack open Oliver can see that the room is bathed in daylight, illuminating every part of the space as Oliver lies there with Elio still in his arms. The low sound of soft breathing coming from beside Oliver tells him that Elio is still sound asleep, and as Oliver turns his head to the side he regards him, and immediately starts to smile.

Elio is lying there pressed up against Oliver’s side, his face resting against Oliver's chest and his arm draped loosely over Oliver's waist, his hand evidently having crept under the bottom of Oliver’s shirt at some point so that it is splayed across Oliver’s stomach. He looks so peaceful that Oliver doesn't want to wake him, but equally Oliver knows that he needs to make his exit soon, before his presence is discovered.

“Elio...” Oliver whispers, leaning close to nudge his nose against Elio's forehead. “Elio, Elio, Elioooo...”

Little more than a sleepy murmur comes out in response as Elio shifts closer to Oliver, his face scrunching up adorably as he grips Oliver's waist more firmly. It's clear that Elio is reluctant to wake up fully, and that perhaps he is feeling the aftereffects of last night's drinking, but nevertheless Oliver knows he has no choice but to rouse him.

“Elio, if we've got any chance of me sneaking out before someone sees us together I need to go now. So come on, sleepyface- wake up”.

Elio groans quietly in response, before finally opening his eyes to regard Oliver very slowly, as if the bright light of the day is offensive to him. Oliver smiles fondly as gazes over at Elio, before reaching over to run the pad of his thumb against Elio's cheekbone.

“Good morning...” Oliver murmurs happily.

“ _Buongiorno_...” Elio mumbles. He continues to remain stretched over Oliver's body, his fingertips trailing gentle circles against Oliver’s stomach under his shirt, until eventually he reaches his hand further up, grasping hold of the gold necklace Oliver wears and holding the small pendant between his thumb and forefinger. For a while Elio simply plays with the metal Star of David, the expression on his face suggesting he wants to ask something though no words are forthcoming, and in the end Oliver dips his head to press a soft kiss to Elio's forehead, before repeating his assertion that he needs to leave.

 

By the time Oliver is walking downstairs with Elio the house is still mercifully quiet, though the sound of voices coming from outside suggests that perhaps everyone is already gathering in the garden. Still, there is no one to witness as Elio walks Oliver to the door, as they linger there for a moment gazing at each other- Elio's hands on Oliver’s waist as he tilts his head up in expectation of a kiss. Unfortunately though before Oliver can grant Elio’s unspoken wish there is the sound of a door opening nearby, and Oliver and Elio are forced to jump apart as a women enters the room.

The women lets out a quiet “Oh!” sound as she sees them, confusion and surprise on her face quickly softening into warm affection as she smiles at Elio and Oliver both in turn. Oliver can see enough of Elio in her features to realise that this is most likely Elio's mother, and concern begins to creep over Oliver’s senses as he turns to look at Elio- worrying that he might be upset at having been rumbled. But though there is some tension evident in Elio’s body language it visibly lessens as Elio's mother approaches, particularly when she reaches up to hold Elio's face, smiling at him lovingly.

“ _Buongiorno, tesoro_ ”, the woman says, pressing a kiss to both sides of Elio's face in turn. “Did you have a good time at your festival yesterday?”

She turns to look at Oliver somewhat pointedly, as if she is waiting for Elio to introduce him, and the exchange prompts Elio to begin to answer her, but in Italian so that Oliver can only understand every other word. It's somewhat awkward for Oliver to stand there wondering what is being said as the conversation progresses, feeling like he is imposing somewhat but not knowing how to extract himself from the situation, but eventually to Oliver's relief Elio turns to face him once more, sighing slightly as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“My mother would like you to join us for breakfast...” Elio says, grumbling a bit- as if he is somewhat annoyed with the idea.

Instantly Oliver’s eyes widen in surprise as he turns to look at Elio's mother.

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs Perlman- but I couldn't possibly impose--"

“Oh, nonsense”, she replies, cutting through Oliver's words. “Please- I insist that you stay. We can't have you heading out without a decent breakfast inside of you. Come- join us at the breakfast table, and please- call me Annella”.

Oliver opens his mouth to object further but it's clear from the look on Annella's face that she will not accept any kind of refusal, and so in the end Oliver simply nods and smiles politely- a gesture that appears to appease Annella as she gives both Oliver and Elio one last friendly smile before turning and walking away.

As soon as Elio's mother is out of sight Oliver lets out an amused sigh and leans back against the door behind himself, running one hand back through his hair as he thinks of how what could have been a somewhat disastrous encounter has actually turned out rather well. Of course that's how Oliver sees it, but as he looks at Elio and takes in the exasperation that is written on his face, he concludes that maybe Elio isn't as happy with what happened as Oliver is.

“You alright?” Oliver asks.

Elio nods quickly, but the way he is chewing on his lower lip suggests he has something on his mind.

“Yeah, I just...” Elio pauses for a moment, before letting out a low sigh and adding: “I'm sorry...”

“Sorry for what, exactly?”

Elio throws his hands up in a gesture which seems to indicate ‘everything' but he embellishes by saying: “I'm sorry about my mom making you come to breakfast... I know it's probably not how you wanted to spend your morning”.

“Elio, it's fine...” Oliver counters. “I'm more than happy to be here, I just didn't want to impose if you would rather I left”.

“No”, Elio replies quickly, looking up at Oliver at last. “No, not at all. I... I like you being here”.

Oliver can't help but smile warmly in response, wanting to touch or kiss Elio in that moment, but knowing it is perhaps better to refrain given they could be interrupted again at any time. Instead he reaches over to gently squeeze Elio's shoulder, turning him in the direction of the sound of voices coming from outside the house as they start to walk together.

“You know, I've got to say this is pretty unusual for me...” Oliver says as they head towards the door. “I'm meeting your parents already and we haven't even slept together”.

Elio turns to look up at Oliver, smiling slyly as he raises his eyebrows somewhat suggestively.

“I do hope there’s a ‘yet' at the end of that sentence...”

 

Breakfast that morning at the Perlman house is unlike anything Oliver has ever experienced before. In Oliver’s own family home mornings were always quiet and somewhat stagnant; a meal shared in silence with barely a word exchanged- lacking in communication because in Oliver's household it was never customary to share. Breakfast at the Perlman's, however, is markedly different...

To begin with Oliver finds it hard not to stare as people move around him at an incredible speed, placing items of food and drink down on the table whilst meanwhile a somewhat brusque woman who Oliver suspects is Mafalda sets a place for him. More than once Oliver tries to thank her, already feeling like he has caused enough of an imposition, but the woman only rattles off something in Italian and pushes Oliver's hand away when he tries to help her with setting up the cutlery. From across the table Elio watches them both with an expression on his face that suggests he is trying not to laugh, but that look of amusement soon transforms into something else as Oliver slides his leg further under the table, kicking off his espadrilles and starting to rub his toes along the top of Elio's bare foot.

“So, Oliver- why don't you tell us about yourself?”

Oliver startles immediately, jumping quite noticeably as he turns towards the person who has just addressed him, finding Elio's father Samuel watching him expectantly. Perhaps Oliver should have known that he wouldn't be able to get through breakfast without being subjected to some kind of grilling, and so as he reaches eagerly for the fresh juice he is offered Oliver inhales a steadying breath, and starts to answer.

For approximately the next hour Oliver enjoys a long, leisurely breakfast with the Perlman family, consuming delicious food washed down with various beverages as he gets to know Elio's mother and father better. It's certainly not how Oliver expected to be spending his morning but he knows things could have worked out considerably worse, and there's certainly a part of Oliver that has to admit that breakfast at Elio's house is indefinitely preferably to another meal spent alone in one cafe or another.

In truth, Oliver warms to Elio's family almost immediately. Both of Elio's parents are so cultured and so friendly and so interesting, and consequently Oliver finds himself relaxing within a relatively short space of time- chatting and exchanging information easily, particularly with Elio's father; a Professor who seems to share a number of the same interests as Oliver does. By the time breakfast has been concluded Oliver finds he is somewhat reluctant to leave even though he knows he must, and so he thanks the family once more as he stands up from the breakfast table.

“Tell me, Oliver- where are you staying whilst you’re in the area?” Annella asks suddenly.

Immediately Oliver remembers embarrassing himself when he tried to remember the name of the hotel he was booked in to last night- information he has still not been able to recall so far- and so he settles on shrugging slightly as he thinks of where he left his backpack in the hallway, and the booking confirmation hidden somewhere within it.

“Would you believe I've been having the hardest time recalling the name...” Oliver starts, before shrugging slightly and adding: “It doesn't matter now anyway- I only made the booking for one night as I wanted to see how things went with... with my sightseeing”.

As soon as the words are out Oliver sees the reactive disappointment that flits across Elio's expression, and rather hastily Oliver wants to explain himself- wants to tell Elio that he only acted so cautiously because he didn't want to assume anything about the nature of their involvement, or the future of it. But they are both being watched so Oliver knows that it isn't the time or the place, and in the next second something happens which distracts Oliver's attention anyway.

“You should stay with us then”.

Oliver turns to find Samuel watching him, a warm and unassuming expression on his face as he cleans his glasses briefly before putting them back on.

“Professor, that's incredibly gracious of you but I couldn’t...”

“Oh, but you must!” Annella interjects, smiling at Oliver warmly. “We have a spare room after all, thanks to this year's graduate student dropping out, and we’d be only too happy to house you during your stay. The only thing I'd be inclined to ask in return is that you help my beloved husband with some of his paperwork whilst you're here, before he ends up completely buried in books”.

“I know exactly where everything is, _cara mia_...” Samuel replies, before Annella reaches over and places her hand over his on the table, squeezing lightly. At that the Professor and Annella both grow quiet as they each turn to look at Elio, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Elio, of course, has eyes only for Oliver. Even after only a relatively short time Oliver can recognise when Elio is trying to hide something- it is evident in the way he is sitting with his hands partially obscuring his face, as if he wishes to conceal his expression even though he is looking directly at Oliver. Whether Elio's avoidance means he doesn't want Oliver to stay or he does and he's trying to play down his excitement Oliver isn't sure, but he realises he definitely wants to know for certain, particularly as it will mean one way or another he can stop lingering by the breakfast table like someone at a party waiting to be asked if they want to dance.

Elio turns to look at his parents at last.

“ _Può restare nella mia stanza_ ”.

Oliver doesn't understand what Elio is saying so he only has the reactions of those assembled to go on- ranging from a small concealed smile from Elio's father to a loud tut and what sounds distinctly like a curse word in Italian from Mafalda as she clears away the dishes. Oliver watches the scene expectantly, waiting for some kind of clarification as to what is happening, and when Samuel lets out a small chuckle and leans back in his chair it seems like the answer is near to manifesting.

“Well then, Oliver- it looks like Elio has volunteered his bedroom for the duration of your stay”, Samuel says, still smiling. “Elio- why don't you go with Mafalda and get yourself set up in the guest room, and meanwhile I'll give Oliver a tour of the place”.

Elio’s mouth parts as if he is about to protest, but ultimately the words dry up as Elio merely stares at his father for a long moment before sighing, his eyes rolling slightly as he starts to get up from his chair. When everyone begins to filter back inside Oliver makes sure to walk beside Elio, taking the opportunity to lean close and ask quietly: “Why did you give up your bedroom for me?”

They only have a brief moment together before they separate, but it is enough time for Elio to shoot Oliver a pointed look as he replies simply: “I didn't...”

 

Oliver only finds out what Elio meant some time later as he swims laps in the household pool, the hot Italian sun bearing down on Oliver’s back as he resurfaces and comes to a stop next to where Elio is languishing at one side. For a moment Oliver remains there looking at him, watching as Elio continues to write in his notebook, his sunglasses partially obscuring his face, before eventually Elio turns his head to regard Oliver.

“Are you sure it's alright me staying here?” Oliver asks cautiously.

Though Elio has been like a constant shadow at Oliver's side all day Oliver still worries he has imposed somewhat, and their early evening swim is the first opportunity Oliver has had to address the subject- now that they are alone at last. Fortunately though only a few seconds pass before Elio answers, reliving Oliver of some of the tension he feels.

“Of course it's alright, Olly- I’m so happy you’re here. I'm just sorry if my parents made you feel uncomfortable in any way...”

Oliver shakes his head. “Not at all- your parents are wonderful. You're very lucky to have them, you know? Gosh, if our situations were reversed and my father had seen me sneaking you out of the house... Well, he would have killed me for sure”.

“Your dad doesn't know about you?” Elio asks, apparently not needing to clarify exactly what it is they’re talking about because they both know without it being explicitly mentioned.

“No, he doesn't”.

Elio pauses thoughtfully, before responding: “My parents didn't know either, but I guess they do now... If you leaving this morning wasn't a complete giveaway I suppose me saying I wanted you to stay in my room soon made things clear, even if my dad did try to pretend I was just giving up my bed _for_ you”.

“ _That's_ what you said to them?” Oliver replies, smiling in amusement.

Elio nods. “Mm-hmm... I suppose I was trying to challenge them in a way- to test how comfortable they _really_ were with who I am. Turns out they’re pretty cool with it”.

“So it would seem”.

They lapse back into silence and for a while there is no noise at all but the gentle rustling sound of a summer breeze moving through the trees and the continuing hum of insects chirping. Oliver closes his eyes and tilts his head up towards the sky and absorbs the moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face, the closeness he feels to Elio- everything. But then a thought starts to slowly creep over Oliver's senses, like a cloud briefly obscuring the sun that renders the scene as fractionally darker and colder, because if Elio's parents really never knew about Elio's sexuality until now it seems increasingly unlikely that the seclusion of such a secret would be deliberate in nature. Elio is forthcoming enough without being overt, so if this is the first time the topic has ever come to light then that must mean...

“Elio...” Oliver starts slowly, turning his head to regard him. “Am I the first man you've been involved with?”

Instantly Elio stiffens, his shoulders clearly tensing, and it prompts Oliver to reach out a hand to gently lay over the top of Elio's clenched fist, squeezing his fingers gently.

“You don't have to be embarrassed...” Oliver continues softly. “I would rather just know so that I can ensure that I--”

“That you what?” Elio grumbles, interrupting Oliver’s words. “That you treat me like the delicate flower you think I am?”

An expression of amusement begins to register on Oliver’s face as he moves closer so that he can nudge his shoulder against Elio’s companionably.

“You're no flower...” Oliver murmurs, smiling subtly as he thinks of how delightfully feisty Elio has already proven himself to be so far. “Seriously though, Elio- it doesn't make a difference to me. But it will to you, one day”.

“I've had sex before, Olly...”

Oliver shrugs. “It's not just about that. I want this to be right. I care about you, Elio”.

Instantly Elio turns his head to look at Oliver, but Oliver is robbed of the opportunity to fully comprehend the meaning behind the expression on his face because his sunglasses keep it partially hidden. It is soon made clear in more than just words though. Rather abruptly Elio launches himself at Oliver, wrapping his arms around Oliver’s body as he slumps into him. Given Oliver is completely taken aback by the affront he has no time to prepare, and though he tries to adjust by sliding his arms around Elio in turn, the veracity of the embrace as well as the unevenness caused by the water they are partially submerged in causes Oliver to stumble, sinking into the pool as Elio goes with him.

What results is several minutes of enthusiastic playfighting as Oliver and Elio battle for control in the water, and that ultimately only ends when Oliver has Elio pinned up against the side of the pool, Elio's arms held at his side. Elio gazes up at Oliver, his sunglasses long since lost to the depths of the water, and smiles almost shyly before saying: “I care about you too, Olly...”

 

That same sentiment is expressed numerous times over the next few days, but never as overtly as on that first occasion. It is instead made evident in the way Elio smiles at Oliver, in the way he scrunches up his face adorably any time Oliver mentions the fact that he will one day have to leave, and it is communicated most clearly of all on the first night Oliver spends alone in Elio's bedroom- when he lies there in bed listening to the sound of Elio moving around in the adjoining room for a while. Oliver eventually drifts off to sleep but is only unconscious for a few minutes before he awakens to the feeling of someone slipping into bed with him, and even before he opens his eyes Oliver knows who it is.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, his voice blurry with sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing...” Elio replies in faux-innocence as he shifts forward, his arms wrapping around Oliver’s waist from behind. Elio presses his face into Oliver's back and kisses him there, his mouth marking small affectations of affection along the line between Oliver's shoulder blades as Oliver reaches down, grasping hold of Elio's hand and squeezing it lightly.

“You wouldn’t want to make a liar out of me, would you Elio? I promised your father that we would sleep in separate rooms”.

“No you didn't...”

“Well maybe not explicitly but it was implied”.

“No it wasn't...”

Oliver sighs, moving away from Elio so that he can turn to face him. Instantly Elio attempts to move closer, his eyelids lowering and his mouth parting in expectation of the kiss Oliver desperately wants to give, but so much of their conversation earlier that day is still running through Oliver's mind and so he leans away from the contact, reaching to gently cup Elio's face instead.

“I meant it when I said I wanted to wait, Elio...” Oliver says quietly, before realising that he never actually uttered the words when they spoke earlier because he never got the chance, but knowing that he means them all the same. “You mean so much to me... I want us to be careful”.

Even in the dim light Oliver can see that Elio is pouting- that adorably sullen expression he sometimes favours slowly clouding his expression. Oliver leans closer and presses a kiss to Elio's forehead, to each of Elio's eyelids as they flicker shut, and then finally to Elio's lips first once then twice. Elio responds intuitively, as if this is a new favourite song to which he already knows all the words, but though Elio's murmurs and heated moans as they kiss make clear the intent to which he wishes to end the evening, Oliver makes sure to maintain some level of control and discipline- like always.

Just when the kisses get too intense, too sensual, and too drugging Oliver pulls away, wrapping his arms around Elio's back and pulling him closer, so that Elio's face ends up pressed into Oliver's chest. Elio mumbles once he is there, his hands clinging onto Oliver in turn, his body shifting so that they are pressed flushed together, and so that Oliver can feel the evidence of Elio's arousal in the space between them. But though it is something Oliver knows he desperately wants to explore with his hands and mouth and tongue, he practices the same restraint he exercises over all aspects of his life, and refrains- for the most part.

“Do you realise how incredibly tempting I find you...” Oliver whispers in Elio's ear.

There is a definite murmur of interest from Elio in response and he shifts in Oliver's arms as if he is trying to pull back, most likely as a means to lift his head so he can kiss Oliver once more. But Oliver remains steadfast, keeps his arms wrapped around Elio's body, tells him softly how much better it will be if they wait, listening as the sound of Elio's grumbling fades into breaths that are soft and steady- signifying that he is asleep at last.

 

 

 

The contact is like a kind of mild conflict they share each night, as Oliver awakens from sleep on numerous occasions to find Elio slipping into his bed- whether Elio has been previously reminded to stay away or not. In truth Oliver doesn't really mind, as it's perhaps not a secret that he covets the shape and form of Elio, the warmth of his body, and the way he murmurs happily as he crawls beneath the covers and wraps his arms around Oliver. But the closeness has never been the problem, it's the expectation of something more that presents the possibility of disharmony, because though Oliver wants Elio so much it is almost painful sometimes, he has made a promise to himself to hold back.

As each day passes Oliver spends time with not just Elio but his parents too, he grows to admire and respect them, and as such it is hard to contemplate the idea of disappointing them- even if that's something that may not actually be a problem as far as Oliver can see. The Perlmans continue to be incredibly welcoming and gracious, and their hospitality suggests to Oliver that they are supportive of their son and who he is as a person, including who he chooses to ‘date’- if that's what he and Elio are in fact doing. With that in mind it should perhaps be easier for Oliver to give in to what he wants to happen with Elio during the first few days and nights they are together, but there is always something that makes him hesitate.

Of course self-restraint can only last so long when faced with daily temptation, and as such Oliver can't help but give in eventually- in a manner of speaking at least.

It happens at night, on another of the occasions during which Oliver awakens to the sound of the door opening as Elio steps through from the adjoining room. Oliver rolls over and blearily looks at the clock on the bedside table, finding that it is just after midnight and therefore that Oliver’s plan of going for a late night run as a way to ensure that Elio would already be sleeping soundly by the time he went to bed has failed... Rather quickly Oliver sits upright on the mattress, pulling the bedsheets tight around himself as he remembers that he is still naked after crawling straight into bed following his shower, and consequently as soon as Elio starts to approach Oliver holds up a hand to halt him.

“Wait, wait... You can't join me tonight- I'm naked”.

Elio sucks in an unsteady breath as his eyes start to track down Oliver’s body, roving in a manner that appears almost involuntary given the way he seems nervous as well as excited. The look on Elio's face instantly makes arousal begin to pool in the pit of Oliver's stomach, prompting him to clench the bedsheets more firmly over his crotch, hoping to conceal the evidence of such.

“I don't mind...” Elio says eventually, his eyes still fixed on where Oliver's hand is placed.

Oliver can't help but smile softly. “No, I suppose you don’t... But still- you should go back to your own room and get some rest”.

“I don't want to rest... I want you”.

Oliver is sure he will never tire of the way such disclosures seem to come to Elio so easily, as if he has no fear whatsoever of reprisal. It makes Oliver want to do nothing more than reach for Elio and pull him close, to preserve his faithful spirit by reassuring him that his honesty is always welcome and will never be rebuffed, and when it is so late at night and Oliver wants Elio so badly it is very hard to remember all the reasons to continue to resist.

As soon as Oliver lifts his hand and gestures Elio moves closer, crossing the room to reach the bed and immediately climbing on top of Oliver, so that his knees are placed on the mattress either side of Oliver's thighs. Elio settles there and it is perfect to be that close to him, to reach up to gently caress his jawline with one thumb, to gaze at him and admire his face in the soft light. Elio is unmistakably nervous- Oliver can tell from the way he is chewing on his lower lip- but like always Elio is brave too, and he leans in to kiss Oliver without question.

The kiss this time is more charged with tension than any other before, not least for the reason that Oliver is still nude and there is little more than thin fabric concealing his sizeable erection. As they kiss Elio trails his hands slowly down Oliver's bare chest and stomach, and before Oliver can even think to urge caution Elio's fingers quickly enclose around the length of Oliver's hard cock, holding it through the bedsheet, squeezing lightly but not attempting to reveal it in a gesture that seems almost exploitative rather than suggestive. At least it would be, were it not for what Elio says next.

“I want you to fuck me, Olly...”

Oliver can't manage to suppress a groan as he gazes into eyes that are heavily dilated with desire, communicating Elio's need as much as his words do. It's what Oliver wants too, perhaps more than anything, but as ever the need for careful consideration is present, making Oliver lean towards an alternative course of action instead.

“We can't do that--”

Elio starts to cut Oliver off but before he gets the chance Oliver places his index finger firmly to Elio's lips, halting his words.

“We can't do that...” Oliver says again. “But maybe we could do something else, if you wanted to”.

Elio quickly nods. “Yes. _Anything_ ”.

The words prompt a need in Oliver to move quickly, to have Elio here and now in this moment entirely, and he inhales a deep breath before he smiles warmly, grasping hold of Elio firmly and using the grip to roll him onto his back.

As soon as Elio is laid out his eyes drop down, evidently drawn to where the bedsheet has fallen revealing the sight of Oliver entirely naked for the first time. Oliver is perhaps somewhat grateful for the faint light in the room not necessarily to conceal his form but to hide the fact that he has started to blush- an uncharacteristically apparent bout of nervousness that continues as Oliver moves to take up position in-between Elio's spread legs. With some caution Oliver reaches for the t-shirt Elio is wearing, grasping it by the hem, but he pauses before removing it and looks up at Elio.

“May I?” Oliver asks softly.

Another rapid nod from Elio gives Oliver the assurance he needs to begin to peel Elio's shirt off, emboldened when Elio shifts to assist and then immediately reaches down to pull at his pyjama bottoms too. In a few swift motions Elio's clothing has been discarded entirely, and then he is completely, thrillingly naked- beautiful and pale and freckled in all kinds of unexpected places that Oliver desperately wants to press his mouth to, and that he makes a mental promise to revisit later.

“You okay?” Oliver asks, lifting his gaze to regard Elio's face and finding that he looks about as spellbound as Oliver feels.

“Mm-hmm”, Elio replies, inhaling a steadying breath. “What did you want me to do?”

It occurs to Oliver then what conclusions may have been reached due to his lack of clarity, because Elio is still staring at the most prominent parts of Oliver and he is breathing heavily and his body language is tense and expectant, and Oliver can only imagine what he might be thinking. For that reason Oliver leans forward instantly, kissing Elio softly on the lips, feeling some of the tension leave Elio's body as he wraps his arms around Oliver's shoulders, his fingers toying with the gold chain around Oliver's neck. As they embrace Oliver reaches over to the bedside table, retrieves the bottle of lube from within the top drawer, and then moves so he is knelt in-between Elio's spread legs once more, gazing down at him ardently.

There are still questions in Elio's expression but they lessen slightly as Oliver pours some lube into the palm of his hand before reaching for Elio's cock, wrapping his hand around it and starting with a few firm strokes. The way Elio reacts is simply delightful- his whole body seems to lift up from the mattress as if it is drawn to Oliver's touch, his eyelids fluttering as he bites down on his lower lip like he is trying to quell the moan that surges unbidden. If Oliver didn't know any better he would think that Elio has never been touched quite like this before because he reacts so viscerally, and it's incredible to be able to watch him, to listen to the _sounds_ Elio makes as Oliver continues to stroke his cock. Oliver feels like he possesses Elio within the palm of his hand, like he has the power to tame him and keep him, and more than ever Oliver realises that’s what he wants- to have Elio, always.

As it is Oliver settles for this- for the look on Elio's face as Oliver leans over him, gently brushing Elio's hair back from his forehead as he continues to use his other hand to work him over. Elio’s breathing is increasingly shallow now, his whole body is trembling, and as such Oliver is unsurprised when a few moments later Elio begins to moan uncontrollably, his eyes wide and fixed on Oliver’s face as Oliver coaxes him to orgasm. As Elio groans his cock begins to spurt in Oliver's hand, and Oliver knows that the sight of Elio climaxing is something that he will be remembering for a long time to come, because he cannot remember the last time he saw something so beautiful.

As Elio slowly comes down from the cascade of bliss that has clearly taken over his body Oliver watches him, smiles softly as Elio turns his head and starts to place heartfelt kisses to each fingertip of Oliver's hand. It's perfect and it's exactly what Oliver wanted for their first time together- not some heated exchange that might prompt retribution in the morning, but something that is _for_ Elio, something to make him feel good. However it immediately becomes clear that there is something else Elio wants, because barely a minute after coming Elio turns his head to look at Oliver once more, at the same time reaching down to take hold of Oliver's cock.

“No, no, no...” Oliver quickly replies, leaning away from Elio's grasp and moving back. “You don't need to do that”.

“But I want to”.

“I know, Elio... Maybe some other time”.

“But that's not fair. You've seen me, why don't I get to see you?”

Immediately Oliver opens his mouth to protest, but then he realises he has spent so much time telling Elio what he cannot have that he is almost at risk of being controlling, because even though he has brought Elio pleasure he has still denied him what he apparently wants. And so instead of offering countenance Oliver instead says: “Okay”, watching the surprise manifest on Elio's face for a moment as Oliver begins to move into position.

A small nudge against Elio's thighs prompts him to bring his legs together as Oliver moves aside, so that once Elio is settled Oliver can climb over him once more, straddling Elio's waist but not bearing any of his weight down. Oliver reaches down and swipes one hand through the come amassed on Elio's chest, uses it as lubricant as he begins to stroke his own cock, keeping his eyes fixed on Elio's face as he tries to discern whether this is indeed what Elio really wants. It seems to be, because for all of Elio's nervousness he is clearly desperately turned on too- his face red and his mouth parted as he watches Oliver, his eyes roaming all over Oliver's face and body like he can't decide what he wants to look at most. Of course when Oliver groans as he begins to come Elio’s eyes snap up to Oliver’s face immediately, and though it's incredibly vulnerable to be watched so ardently, the look of deep devotion on Elio's face in that moment soon makes up for any embarrassment.

 

When they go to sleep that night they are both, for the first time, completely satisfied. Though there are other things Elio undoubtedly wants and Oliver does too, for now it is enough for them to just be together, for Oliver to hold Elio in his arms and press heartfelt kisses to his forehead as Elio murmurs happily and snuggles closer.

Nearby the clock on the beside table is counting down on the time they have together, minutes and hours signified by each passing day. But for a brief period everything is simple and it can be just about the happiness they have, and the moments they can share before the sun rises each morning.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

When Oliver first came to Italy it was to see impressive monuments and stunning landscapes and beautiful scenery- all things wonderful and amazing and captivating. The experience so far has provided those sights, but equally everything Oliver has seen somehow means little when weighted against the simple pleasures Oliver attains during the time he enjoys at the Perlman house- days spent with Elio and his family.

Weeks of seeing the beautiful sights that the continent has to offer should have been the focal point of Oliver's trip, but strangely enough that isn't the case. Instead the highlight is simply Elio- his voice, his laugh, the adorable little scrunchy face he makes when he is thinking of something unpleasant, the way he moves when he is playing piano, the soft rush of his breathing as lies beside Oliver each night. All parts of him represent some new and wondrous spectacle, and Oliver is sure he will never tire of looking at him, talking to him, being with him. Of course they both know that it cannot last, that their time together is strictly limited, and as such they both strive to be with each other as much as they possibly can in the meantime.

The attempt is aided in many ways by Elio's parents, thereby confirming to Oliver that they are as open-minded and accepting as Oliver first thought when he met them. Oliver, as promised, spends numerous hours with Elio's father- helping the Professor organise the many files in his office- and it’s unsurprisingly enjoyable to spend that time with him, and to discuss Samuel's work and findings. More than once Elio joins them- sitting in an armchair at the side of the room and listening intently to whatever discussion is taking place- but frequently such visits only last for a short while before Elio is coughing pointedly and gesturing for Oliver to wrap things up; something that almost always prompts a wry smile from Elio’s father.

When they are granted time together Elio delights in showing Oliver around the local area, taking him to cafes and monuments and various other sights as they travel the area on bikes, soaking up the glorious Italian sun that shines down upon them. On one occasion Elio takes Oliver to what he describes as his favourite place- a beautiful stream which they wade through to access a stunning meadow- and as they later lie together on the grass Elio describes the day as “Perfect”, and Oliver knows he couldn’t have picked a better word himself.

It seems like an age that they remain there, gazing up at the clouds as they pass over the sky, basking in the presence of each other as lie side-by-side, their fingers lightly entwined. Eventually Elio rolls over, climbs on top of Oliver, sits there straddling Oliver’s waist looking simply resplendent in the sunlight as he smiles victoriously down at him- as if this is a game between them that Elio has somehow won. Of course Oliver would only be too happy to let Elio take the win, take everything in fact, and for that reason Oliver can do little more than gaze up at him in wonder, running the palms of his hands up both of Elio's thighs, until the point when Elio shifts his weight backwards and things take on a distinctly more _suggestive_ turn.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs warningly, groaning as Elio repositions himself so his ass is pressed firmly over Oliver's crotch.

“I've thought about you fucking me in this position...” Elio replies, sliding his hands up under Oliver’s shirt, caressing his ribs with gentle fingertips. “Do you want that?”

“You know I do...”

“Then why are we _waiting_?”

It's a fair enough question, given Oliver has been staying at the Perlman house for almost a week now and so far they have gone no further than mutual touches, save for one occasion when Elio was in a particularly grumpy mood following discussion of Oliver’s plans for when he returned to America, and Oliver decided that perhaps the best way to bring Elio out of his gloom was to resort to a _different_ kind of oral manipulation instead of just talking. Oliver can still remember the look on Elio's face when he heeded Oliver’s instruction to drop his swimming trunks and sit on the edge of the bed, the way his hands slid into Oliver's hair as soon as Oliver started to suck on his cock, the _sounds_ Elio had made. Memory of the event has brought heat to Oliver's face numerous times as he has sat with Elio's family at the dinner table, but it’s a recollection Oliver continues to cherish and an occasion that he hopes to repeat before long.

For now though, even as wanton thought flits through Oliver's mind as he gazes up at Elio, as he feels the weight of Elio's body bearing down on his crotch, Oliver maintains his conviction that they need to take things slowly. It's a belief that has only increased with every day Oliver has spent with Elio, because even in such a short space of time Oliver knows how deep his feelings for Elio really are, and therefore how much he wants Elio's first time to be something that is special for the both of them, and not an occasion that is rushed.

Still, with each passing day it is harder to resist- particularly when Oliver knows they only have one more week together before he will need to return to America. For that reason Oliver finds himself reconsidering, and as he slides his hands up under Elio's shirt to gently squeeze Elio's waist he thinks about offering up an alternative course of action.

“Elio, what are you doing tonight?”

Elio frowns slightly, suggesting that it's not the response he expected in the least.

“Umm, nothing really... I mean, some friends of my parents are visiting so I've got to have dinner with them and play the piano and stuff, but that's about it. Why do you ask?”

“How do you feel about coming to see me afterwards?”

“Well yeah, of course. They'll probably be here until after eleven at least, but I'll come to your room when I'm done. I always come to see you at night...”

“Yes, I know that. But this time I'm _asking_ you to come- I'm inviting you to share a bed with me...”

Gradually the frown on Elio's face dissipates, becomes a look of realisation and wonder- a look that tells Oliver that Elio has understood, and that he is happy. If it weren't immediately obvious by Elio's expression it is made clearer by the way he immediately brings his face closer to Oliver’s, smiling widely as he runs both hands through Oliver's hair.

“Really? You mean-- _really_??”

Oliver nods, smoothing both hands up and down Elio's back.

“Yes- I mean _really_. I've got some business I need to see to this evening so I'll be venturing into town, but when you're done with your dinner I'll be waiting for you in your room. Try not to be late”.

“Try not to be late...” Elio mimics, his voice plainly mocking, but he smiles again and leans down to kiss Oliver, and all Oliver can think is that he's sure he'll be counting down the seconds until midnight.

 

The rest of the day passes far, far too slowly- an endless slog of minutes, too few of which are spent at Elio's side. After they return from their bike ride Elio and Oliver engage in a brief swim, but then Elio is forced to go and get ready for the arrival of the Perlmans' guests, meaning they are likely to be unable to spend any further time together until that night. Oliver is granted one last look at Elio- a glimpse through the partially closed door to where Elio is standing with his father, complaining about the admittedly gaudy patterned shirt he is being cajoled into wearing. Oliver can't help but smile as he watches him, particularly as he allows himself to imagine what it might be like to peel Elio out of that same shirt later...

For the rest of the evening Oliver thinks about Elio, wonders where he is and what he is doing, and whether he is thinking about the night ahead as well. The sun tracks across the sky and Oliver imagines Elio laid out beneath him in bed, flushed and desperate and trembling. The moon rises to shed a silvery glow across the landscape and Oliver imagines caressing every inch of Elio's skin, marking his pale flesh with kisses and touches and come. The thoughts are so potent they are the epitome of distraction, and as such Oliver finds it hard to focus on little else but Elio, and how Oliver cannot wait to have him at last.

When Oliver returns to the Perlman residence the house is dark and quiet, but from one of the rear rooms Oliver can hear the low melodic sound of piano music- muted but magnificent, as if that one soulful tune has enough resonance to fill the entire building. For a moment Oliver lingers, listening to the beautiful melody, before he turns and heads over to the staircase and begins to ascend, heading in the direction of Elio's room. The music is quieter within the room but Oliver can still hear it as he steps into the shower, but by the time he steps out once more the sound can no longer be heard, presenting Oliver with some hope that perhaps Elio will be joining him soon.

It still takes longer than Oliver would like, time in which Oliver sits on the edge of the mattress and waits, glancing down at his watch as the minutes tick by. It’s warm in the room but thanks to the open window and Oliver’s attire of boxer shorts and an open shirt he is cool enough, though on a couple of occasions he wonders if he is perhaps being far too presumptuous by dressing somewhat suggestively. However, as soon as Elio enters the room the look on his face tells Oliver that he was right to assume, because it is clear that Elio has been counting down the seconds just as ardently.

Elio steps into the room and closes the door quietly behind himself, before crossing the space towards the bed as Oliver extends his hand. The look of nervousness on Elio's face is unmistakable but he smiles as he takes Oliver's hand, allowing Oliver to pull him closer so that Elio ends up climbing into Oliver's lap, his legs spread wide and his knees planted on the mattress either side of Oliver’s thighs. As soon as Elio is in position Oliver slides his arms around Elio's waist to hold him, emboldened when Elio immediately wraps his arms around Oliver's shoulders in return.

“Hi...” Oliver says, smiling warmly as he notices for the first time that Elio is wearing a gold star on a chain around his neck much like Oliver's own. “Did you have a good time with your parents and their friends?”

Elio shrugs. “I guess... I kept thinking about you though, and wishing you were there with me”.

“Well I'm here now...” Oliver replies, nudging his nose against the underside of Elio’s chin. Elio tilts his head up and it gives Oliver the freedom to press a succession of gentle kisses all along Elio's throat, listening as Elio murmurs deeply in response, his hands grasping fistfuls of Oliver's shirt.

“I love the little noises that you make...” Oliver murmurs, trailing his lips higher to brush against Elio's jawline. “So cute...”

“Hmph...” Elio grumbles, and when Oliver leans back to look at him he sees the trademark screwing up of Elio's mouth that suggests that he is unhappy. “I'd rather be sexy, or handsome, or something like that...” Elio explains. “Not _cute_ ”.

Oliver can't help but smile, though he tries to downplay his amusement.

“You are who you are, Elio. I _like_ who you are. Can't you see that?”

Elio shrugs, some discontent still clouding his expression, but he shifts a bit closer to Oliver as he looks down at Oliver’s lips and replies: “ _Show_ me...”

If it's a challenge it is one that Oliver is happy to take on, as shown when he leans forward to kiss Elio, sinking into the embrace like all things in his life have been leading to this. Oliver kisses Elio and trails his hands along the front of that silly patterned shirt Elio is wearing, unfastening the buttons one by one as Elio murmurs happily, his growing arousal onto too obvious from where his crotch is pressed up against Oliver's own. As soon as Elio's chest has been exposed Oliver starts to cover it with soft kisses, at the same time reaching down to unbutton Elio's trousers, and when Oliver's hand slips inside Elio's boxers he finds that Elio's hard cock is already slick with pre-come; something that almost negates the question that Oliver next asks.

“Is this what you want?” Oliver whispers.

Clearly Elio finds the question to be amusingly redundant too, as he smiles in a very knowing way at Oliver before replying: “I think what you've got your hand wrapped around tells you that it is...”

With confirmation- quite literally- in hand, Oliver grasps Elio's thighs firmly and uses his grip to pull Elio closer, bringing Elio with him as he shifts to lean against the headboard. Oliver reclines back against the pillows as he reaches up to slide Elio's shirt off entirely, leaning forward afterwards to press a soft kiss to each of Elio's shoulders and along his collarbone whilst meanwhile shrugging off his own shirt as well. After that Oliver turns his attention towards Elio's trousers and underwear and then his own, and in just a short while they are completely naked together at long last.

“Is this something like what you imagined?” Oliver asks, leaning back to regard the sight of Elio sitting over him, eyes roving over skin that is pale and smooth like fine marble, making Elio seem very much like a work of art.

Elio nods, sliding his hands over Oliver’s chest as he shifts forward so that he is positioned slightly higher up. Oliver reaches down to cup Elio's ass with both hands, squeezing gently before he reaches for his own cock and begins to rub it along the line in-between Elio’s buttocks, however it's unmistakable the way some uncertainty clouds Elio's expression in that moment, and instantly Oliver stops his motions and instead reaches up to hold Elio's face with one hand, rubbing his thumb against Elio's jawline.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asks. “We can stop at any time you know”.

“I know... It's not that... Um, Olly- I know I said I'd thought about us in this position, but I don't know what... I don’t know how to...”

Elio trails off, but the meaning in his words is read by Oliver anyway as he immediately pulls Elio closer, kissing him ardently as he rolls Elio over, so that he is lying on his back on the mattress with Elio in-between his spread legs.

“Is this better?” Oliver asks, murmuring against Elio's lips.

“Yes, better”, Elio replies, smoothing the palms of his hands down Oliver's chest. He still looks so sweet and so innocent that Oliver can't help but kiss him once more, taking his time to do so leisurely, feeling some of the tension leave Elio’s body as they embrace. Elio is warm everywhere Oliver touches him and it is infinitely enjoyable for Oliver to trail his mouth and hands all over every part of him, eliciting little moans and murmurs from Elio that are like music to Oliver's ears, and that urge Oliver to continue. Of course the quiet dedication that Oliver pays with every caress is such that, by the time he reaches over into his bedside table to retrieve the lube, Elio’s moans seem to be bordering on frustration, suggesting that he is more than ready for the act to commence.

Still, in spite of Elio's apparent keenness Oliver still takes things slowly as he reaches his lubed fingertips in-between Elio's legs, circling Elio's entrance slowly and deliberately as meanwhile Elio buries his face in Oliver’s chest, as if he is trying to hide. They start off lying on their sides facing each other but Elio soon ends up sprawled across Oliver's torso, one leg lifted up and draped over Oliver's waist as Oliver's fingers begin to make their incursion, sliding inside and twisting carefully. It takes Elio some time to get used to the stretch, to lift his head from Oliver’s chest so that Oliver can kiss him once more, and even then the tension remains on Elio's face. But any time Oliver so much as hints at stopping Elio simply shakes his head, mumbles: “No, _more_ ”, and Oliver can't help but give into him- like always.

Once Elio has been suitably prepped Oliver carefully removes his fingers, shifts so that he is knelt in-between Elio's spread legs, leans over to press a fond kiss to Elio’s lips, before settling back down and beginning to get himself ready. After a condom and lube have been applied Oliver settles into position, but before he begins he gazes down at Elio, at his beautiful face and gorgeous body, at the look of deep affection and devotion in his eyes, and asks him: “Are you _sure_...?”

The response Oliver receives is one he has heard before, but this time he can finally heed the words. Elio reaches up, winds an arm around Oliver's neck to pull him closer, kisses him firmly on the mouth, and whispers: “Fuck me, Olly...”, and without question of objection Oliver obeys, knows in his heart that he will always do what Elio asks in the end, and gives in to the moment as he lines up his cock and slowly begins to push inside.

It's clearly uncomfortable for Elio at first, given the way his brow tenses marginally, but as Oliver stills and leans down to press his mouth to Elio's temple some of the tension dissipates, prompting Oliver to proceed further. He slides in until they are flush together and it feels staggeringly good, but for a moment Oliver pauses, looks down at the beautiful spectacle of Elio beneath himself, and watches Elio’s chest as it rises and falls with each heightened breath. He looks so vulnerable in that moment, so small and defenceless, and all Oliver wants to do is protect him, and care for him always.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, pressing his face into Elio's neck. “Elio, Elio, Elioooo...”

A small ripple of amusement manifests in the way Elio's chest rumbles, a quiet laugh leaving his lips as he slides his hands into Oliver's hair and cradles Oliver’s head, making Oliver feel content and cared for. It feels so incredibly good to be that close to Elio, to feel so connected to him, that for a moment Oliver loses himself as he lays there, basking in the intimacy. But then Elio's lips brush against Oliver's cheek, become a kiss mixed with a command, and when Elio's hands reach down to squeeze Oliver's ass Oliver hears the words: “Show me what I've been waiting so long for...”

This time when Oliver lifts himself up Elio's face is not drawn and tense, it is joyful and relaxed and serene. Oliver keeps his eyes focused on Elio's expression as he pulls almost all the way out before beginning to push forward once more, setting up a rhythm that is slow and steady but deep and thorough. Although Oliver expects that he will see that same look of discomfort on Elio's face again if it manifests it is only ever for a second, because each time Elio recovers and then his expression is back to being one of sensual bliss once more, made all the more evident when Elio reaches down for his own hard cock and begins to stroke it.

Oliver has always liked to be the one to bring Elio to orgasm but on this occasion he lets Elio take what he needs, finding himself growing increasingly aroused in return as he watches Elio gasp and groan as he strokes himself in time with Oliver's motions. The feeling of being inside Elio combined with the sight of him is enough to have Oliver moaning too, shuddering as he thrusts into Elio over and over again, until it is so intense and so good that neither of them can hold out any longer. Elio gives out first, as signalled by the onset of heated murmuring that leaves his lips as his cock spurts in his hand, coating his stomach with come. The spectacle is so stunning that it is only a matter of seconds before Oliver is succumbing to climax too- groaning brokenly as he comes with his sheathed cock still buried deep inside Elio's ass.

In the afterglow everything is so incredible and so intense it is difficult for Oliver not to immediately slump into Elio, to let his trembling arms give out at last so he can rest and recover. But a need to ensure Elio is content and happy instead prompts Oliver to pull out slowly, watching as a flicker of discomfort passes across Elio's face that immediately has Oliver leaning close to press his mouth to Elio's forehead. Oliver presses tender kisses to Elio's cheeks and nose and closed eyelids and mouth and chin as Elio quietly murmurs, his hands gently running up and down Oliver's upper arms and shoulders, and then when Elio's head drops to the side and he closes his eyes and smiles Oliver finally withdraws, reaching to the side for his earlier discarded shirt which he uses to clean Elio off, before he steps over to the bathroom to do the same for himself.

When Oliver returns Elio is still lying on his back on the bed, his face relaxed and serene as he quietly sleeps. It's the most beautiful Elio has ever been to Oliver- so carefree and unselfconscious and beautiful as he lies there, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight that filters in through the open curtains. Rather suddenly Oliver's heart clenches in his chest because he knows then that he is slowly falling in love with Elio, that perhaps he has been from the minute that they met, but those same minutes are passing by ever faster now and they only have a limited amount left. In just under a week Oliver will be returning to America, and though he does not know what might happen in the future he does know one thing for sure- Elio will be remaining in Italy with his family for the rest of the summer at least.

But such fears are kept firmly within Oliver's mind as he crosses the room towards the bed, climbing onto the mattress beside Elio and immediately shifting closer to him. Elio stirs slightly as Oliver moves closer, opens his eyes and offers Oliver a sleepy smile, and when he opens his arms wide Oliver crawls into them willingly, needing the comfort that only Elio can provide. Within Oliver’s chest his heart is racing at the thought of leaving Elio but outwardly he remains quiet as he lies down and drapes his arm across Elio's waist, tucking his face into the curve of Elio's neck as if he wishes to hide there.

“I love this...” Elio whispers quietly.

The words do not quite match the ones that have been running through Oliver’s mind, the ones that linger on his lips for a moment before returning to where they belong. In response Oliver nudges his nose against Elio's cheek and asks: “ _This_?”

“Mm-hmm. This summer. The past two weeks. Being with you...”

Summer, like all things, is brief and fleeting, but Oliver does not tell Elio that. Instead he takes Elio's hand, entwines Elio's fingers with his own, and tells himself that he will do this same thing for every day of which he is allowed, until the cold of winter sets in once more.

 

 

 

The next few days are similar in nature, filled equally with elation mixed with disheartening dysphoria. Because although Oliver and Elio spend time together as always, lie with each other beneath the sheets each night and on numerous occasions during the day too, amid the intimacy are moments of unsettling clarity as they both seem to remember the future that lies before them- one which they do not share together.

It affects Elio most of all, though the manifestation of such seems to come at the most unexpected times. One moment Elio is relaxed and happy and carefree- laughing and playing with Oliver as if he does not have a care in the world- and the next he is downbeat and sullen; to most outward observers most likely seeming like he is suffering from a fit of teenage sulking. But Oliver knows better- Oliver can see when Elio is clamping his mouth shut to protect himself and his heart from the things that might hurt him. More than once Oliver sits at the dinner table and watches Elio carefully, heart sinking as he sees Elio appear to close off parts of himself as a means of protection. The last thing Oliver wants is to hurt Elio, even if it seems increasingly like it is something neither of them can actually prevent, and for that reason Oliver makes sure to give Elio everything he thinks Elio needs, whilst they still have the chance.

However there is one occasion in particular when it seems like no amount of soft kisses and heartfelt caresses will be enough to keep Elio's heart happy. It becomes apparent when they lie in bed together one night- Oliver reclined on his back with Elio sprawled in-between his legs. Oliver cradles Elio's head where it is resting against his chest, runs his fingers through the curly brunette locks of Elio's hair, and talks idly about life back in America and all the things Oliver plans to do when he returns there. In truth Oliver isn't really thinking that consciously about what he is saying, given every utterance prompts a pang of sadness as Oliver contemplates the fact that Elio isn't going to be there, but then Elio lets out a wracked kind of sob, his head turning as he buries his face in Oliver’s chest, and Oliver looks down in concern as he feels Elio’s whole body tremor.

“Elio?” Oliver asks softly. “What's wrong?”

The outburst of emotion only lasts for a moment before Elio pulls away and moves to sit upright, wiping at his own face in an apparent attempt to conceal the fact that he is very clearly upset. Oliver reaches for him immediately, cupping Elio's face with both hands and pressing gentle kisses to Elio's forehead as he starts to calm down, waiting expectantly for explanation as Elio only buries his face in Oliver’s shoulder, clinging onto him desperately.

“I don't want you to go...” Elio says eventually, the words coming out pained and sad.

Oliver squeezes Elio tighter, holding him close in an expression of how much he doesn’t want to leave either.

“I know... But I have to”.

“Will you visit me when I start at the university?” Elio asks.

“Is that what you want?”

Evidently that is not the correct response as Elio pulls away abruptly, discontent clouding his expression as he looks at Oliver, narrowing his eyes in apparent annoyance.

“Why do you always do that?” Elio questions. “Why can't you just tell me what _you_ want?”

It's a good enough inquisition, and Oliver already knows the answer. It is easier to answer a question with a question, to place the burden of disclosure on someone else rather than speaking freely, and Oliver realises then how this is something he has often done with Elio. But it isn't fair to do so when Elio is asking for something more, and so Oliver attempts to swallow down his reservations as he begins to respond.

“What you’re asking for wouldn't be easy, Elio...” Oliver starts. “I want to see you when you get back to America- of course I do- but there's almost two months between now and then, and who knows what might happen in the meantime? I'm going to be in the city, working, waiting for you, and you’re going to be here having the time of your life. You're young, Elio- and I wouldn't blame you if you met someone else, perhaps a girl who is closer to your own age...”

It's something Oliver has considered more than once- that he might represent little more to Elio than some summer fling; a bout of experimentation conducted by someone who is still in the midst of finding out who they are. The last thing Oliver wants is to lose Elio, but at the same time he doesn't want to hold him back either- not now, not ever. Because it is clear that Elio is someone extraordinary, someone bright and talented and wonderful, and it would kill Oliver to think that he could in any way become a burden- an old romance that only grows older with each passing day.

But Elio disagrees- that much is evident in the way he looks at Oliver, his eyes growing large and sad as if he cannot believe what he is hearing.

“You really think I would do that to you?” Elio asks quietly.

“I wouldn't _blame_ you, is all I'm saying...” Oliver replies.

Elio shakes his head very quickly, as if he is trying to dispel what Oliver is saying.

“I don’t want that. I don't want anyone else but you, Olly... Two months isn't such a long time if we talk every day- we can text and send pictures and video chat. I'm happy to wait, if you are”.

Elio leans forward, dropping to press his face into Oliver's chest once more and prompting Oliver to gently cradle Elio's head, as if everything he wants most in the world is held firmly within his hands. After a moment Elio lifts his head and their lips find each other, sharing a kiss that is somewhat bittersweet- an expression of tenderness that may still be short-lived. But Oliver knows what he wants now, even if he is often ineffective in saying it, and so as he pulls away and gazes deeply into Elio's eyes, and makes a decision to actively pursue the things that he needs.

“It could be like those first few days after we met, when we talked every day by text...”

In response to Oliver’s words Elio instantly begins to smile; an expression of joy that brings light to an encounter that has been dark so far.

“We can... And we can Skype and talk on the phone use Snapchat to send pictures and videos and stuff”.

“Umm, Elio- you're going to need to explain to me what that last thing is...”

Elio starts to laugh, smiling affectionately as he kisses Oliver once more.

“It's okay, I'll teach you...” Elio murmurs against Oliver's lips.

In many ways Oliver feels like Elio has already taught him so much, but Oliver is happy to learn something else if it means he can keep Elio in his life. It will be difficult of course- to separate, to spend all that time away from each other- but ultimately Oliver feels like it will be worth it in the end, and certainly preferable to returning to a life that is no longer made brighter by Elio's presence.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

The remaining few days pass far too quickly, each one marked by fun and laughter and affection, but tinged with intermittent sadness as both Oliver and Elio contemplate the fact that their unity cannot last. In the daytime it is something they rarely reflect on- they are usually far too busy enjoying their time together- but as they lay together at night the subject often comes up, and though they both attempt to make hopeful plans for the future about what they will do when they are both in America, it is still painful for them to contemplate their parting in the meantime.

It is hard for Oliver to imagine a life where he does not wake up beside Elio each morning, or indeed where he does not see Elio's family every day. Each one of the Perlmans and their staff have become beloved to Oliver, and he does not envy his life to come back in New York, when he will be alone in his apartment for the majority of his time. Everything in Italy is so much brighter and more vibrant, and though Oliver tells himself its the country itself he knows the biggest reason for his fondness of the place is actually Elio, and the joy and light he brings.

For two weeks now Oliver and Elio have spent every day and almost every second together, and even though Oliver feels like he somehow knows Elio better than he knows pretty much anyone else in his life, he realises there is still so much left for him to learn. Each day brings with it the advent of some new discovery or piece of information, brought about by the increasing closeness of Oliver and Elio as well as how comfortable they are with each other, and to Oliver each discovery is like unlocking some small secret that is made all the more special because it is granted to Oliver alone.

Over their time together Oliver learns numerous things, such as that the back of Elio’s knees are incredibly ticklish, that there isn't a fruit in existence that Elio will not eat, and that Elio gets extremely tactile when he is drunk on wine- even if once Elio is inside the bedroom he is more likely to fall asleep whilst Oliver is undressing him than he is to do anything amorous. And then there are the other occasions, when their increasing closeness brings about new experiences that signify to Oliver the measure of comfort Elio feels in their relationship- something that only makes Oliver feel more connected to Elio in return.

One such occasion happens early one morning, when Oliver is just returning to full consciousness after a night of restful sleep. Most days start with Oliver and Elio waking within moments of each other, as if they are so in sync that even their bodies share the same circadian rhythm, but on this particular morning Oliver stirs to find that Elio is already awake. Oliver realises this very quickly, because rather than finding Elio lying beside himself as Oliver opens his eyes, instead Oliver locates Elio by way of the warmth he feels in-between his legs and the shape Oliver can see covered by the bedsheets.

“Elio... What are you doing?” Oliver asks, his voice blurry with sleep.

The response, when it comes, is muffled by the covers Elio is apparently hiding under. Oliver can feel Elio's head where it is resting against his thigh, and as Elio opens his mouth his warm breath ghosts over Oliver's bare flesh as Elio replies: “Nothing...”

Though the position Elio is lying in- sprawled in-between Oliver's spread legs with his face only inches away from Oliver’s cock- is certainly suggestive, there's an innocence to it too that makes Oliver slip one hand under the covers, sliding his fingers into Elio's soft brown hair and stroking gently. The gesture is meant to comfort, to reassure Elio that nothing is expected of him and that whatever he is thinking of doing will always be on his own terms, but instead it seems to prompt a completely different kind of reaction, as Elio immediately turns his head and presses his face into the juncture between where Oliver’s groin meets his thigh, prompting a heady groan to leave Oliver’s lips. Oliver's fingers tighten in Elio's hair as Elio places a succession of tender kisses to Oliver's skin, and instantly Oliver's cock starts to noticeably harden.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, the word almost the echo of a question as Oliver still doesn’t know what to expect of this particular encounter. There are no utterances from Elio in response but his mouth trails ever closer to Oliver's increasingly engorged member, prompting Oliver to practically hold his breath as he waits to see what is going to happen. It's tentative to say the least, and Oliver knows he prefers it that way as he would never want to rush Elio, but eventually Oliver's patience is rewarded as Elio lifts his head, lingering a moment before lowering and pressing his lips softly to the base of Oliver's cock, trailing upwards.

For Oliver, even just feeling Elio's mouth brushing against his cock in a series of sensual kisses is something that is incredibly arousing, but then when Elio reaches the top he wraps his hand around the base of Oliver’s member before sliding his mouth around the head, taking it in. Oliver can see little more than the shape of Elio's form beneath the covers as Elio starts to move his mouth up and down Oliver’s cock, but even though Oliver would love to see Elio properly he remains determined to have the encounter be on Elio’s terms, ensuring Elio is content with whatever happens. It means so much that Elio is evidently comfortable enough with their relationship to try something he has never done before, and for that reason Oliver is happy to just lie back and just give in to the moment, although he keeps his hand entwined in Elio’s hair throughout to maintain their connection.

The act is slow and leisurely but Oliver does not push for more, does not try to speed things up. It is perfect to just lie there enjoying the warm pressure of Elio's mouth, groaning as Elio sucks gently on the sensitive head of Oliver's cock, occasionally swirling his tongue around the shaft. Though the encounter starts off being somewhat tentative Elio gradually grows in confidence, until he is sliding his mouth up and down more rapidly, prompting Oliver’s breathing to deepen as the pleasure builds in intensity.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, more than once- as if the word is very much a vow of worship.

When Oliver nears climax he grips Elio's hair more tightly, making sure to tell Elio that he is close to coming, and shuddering helplessly as Elio pulls away. Oliver reaches down to grasp his own cock and holds it firmly, only needing a couple of rough strokes before he is moaning Elio’s name once more as he comes, his seed splattering across his own stomach and against the thin cotton bedsheets, seeping through to the other side. For a moment Elio stays hidden, remaining under the covers for some time for whatever reason, but eventually he crawls up from under the sheets and the sight is simply the most wonderful thing Oliver has ever seen.

“Hi...” Elio says, smiling shyly. His face is flushed and his hair is damp and sticking to his forehead and he is _beautiful_ \- his expression sweetly self-conscious, as if he is feeling uncertain and in need of reassurance. Oliver is only too happy to provide Elio with the validation he requires, to reach for Elio and pull him close, to nudge his nose against Elio's cheek and whisper to him that he is amazing. A small ripple of laughter runs through Elio's body at that, one that sounds giddy yet disbelieving, and he simply holds Oliver tighter in turn, remaining together as outside their haven the sun rises steadily higher to take its place in the sky.

 

 

 

It is perhaps most heartbreaking that, at the point when Oliver and Elio are at their closest, it is shortly before they are due to separate. On their last evening together Oliver and Elio stay up into the night, drinking cider as they sit outside in the grounds of the house, listening to the low hum of nature that accompanies their conversation. Elio is always delightful when he is tipsy- affectionate and teasing and tactile- and consequently their interactions seem to vary between playful jesting and the more serious moments when they will sit together and gaze into each other's eyes, as if they are both trying to commit the respective sights before themselves to memory.

When they retire to bed that night they both do so with heavy hearts, and for Oliver in particular the conclusion of the day is especially painful. Tomorrow he will be boarding a train to take him to the nearest airport, and after that only a lengthy flight stands between Oliver and his return to America- to a life that is pleasant enough but ultimately unfulfilling; something Oliver has only fully realised over the past few weeks. Life with Elio and his family is so bright and vibrant and wonderful, and in comparison the grey drudgery of the city holds little appeal.

It has been a long time since Elio has even attempted to sleep in the guest room for the night, and this occasion is no different. When Oliver crawls into bed Elio is there, soft and warm as he lies on his stomach, his face turned away towards the open window. Oliver moves closer and wraps his arm around Elio, presses a sincere kiss to the sensitive spot behind his ear, whispers Elio's name in worshipful tones, and smiles as Elio turns over and crawls into Oliver's waiting arms.

This time when they make love it is more intense than any time before- slower and more sensual, as if neither of them wants it to end. It starts with Elio lying on his stomach on the mattress as Oliver takes him from behind, gripping Elio's slender hips as he rocks into him, making Elio's toes curl with each deep thrust. At one point Oliver leans over Elio completely, rests his weight against Elio's back as he kisses along the curve of his shoulder, and it is like the shape of Oliver could cover Elio completely, keeping him safe and hidden- like a secret only Oliver possesses. Oliver knows he would want that- for Elio to be his alone- but with only hours to go until they part Oliver knows he cannot hold on to the things he wants for long.

When it ends, it does so with Elio lying on his back, Oliver in-between his legs, Oliver’s cock buried deep inside Elio's ass as they kiss each other desperately. Oliver pulls back and watches Elio as he comes, sees the stars explode in Elio's eyes as he shakes and shudders, clinging onto Oliver desperately. Oliver cannot help but kiss him then, cannot help but turn and bury his face in Elio’s neck- needing the warmth and comfort of him, coveting his shape and form. In response Elio murmurs quietly, reaches down to grasp Oliver's hips and squeezes them, as if he is trying to get Oliver to continue moving so he can climax too.

It has always been something Elio has seemed to crave- to watch Oliver as he comes, to study his face as if it is the most fascinating thing he has ever seen. If it is to be the last intimacy they share for some time Oliver knows it would be cruel to deny Elio his desires, and so eventually Oliver pulls out and rolls onto his back, lying there in subjugation as Elio immediately reaches down to remove the condom from Oliver's cock so he can start stroking him to completion. Elio lies close to Oliver as he touches him, presses occasional kisses to Oliver's lips and watches him ardently, waits expectantly for the first shivery tremors to manifest as they begin to possess Oliver’s body. Oliver can't help but close his eyes as the sensations take him over, hips stuttering as he bucks helplessly into Elio's hand, feeling the warmth of Elio beside himself and coveting his form, trying to form the moment into a memory to sustain him when he is gone.

 

It takes a long time for Oliver to fall asleep that night. It’s not that he isn't tired, that he hasn’t suitably exerted himself during his last full day with Elio, it's that Oliver is reluctant to close his eyes and to allow the finality of the moment to signify the end of their time together. And so, Oliver lies there for some time, and watches Elio as he breathes softly in his relaxed sleeping state. Eventually at some point in the night Elio stirs, notices Oliver watching him and immediately starts to protest- rolling on top of Elio whilst emitting sleepy murmurs that express his desire for Oliver to sleep too. Though Oliver wants to stay up for a little while longer he can't help but smile and close his eyes contentedly, wrapping his arms around Elio's back and giving him a fond squeeze as he waits for sleep to suffocate his solemn senses.

One moment it is night-time and Oliver is lying there, holding Elio. The next Oliver is opening his eyes as he hears the muffled sounds of the house waking up around him- voices and low noise coming from outside the open window as the table is laid for breakfast. Elio is still sound asleep at first, and as such Oliver is able to watch the moment when Elio’s eyes open, when he sees Oliver and he starts to smile, before the look of contentment on his face transmutes into sadness as a result of what that day signifies for the both of them. Oliver leans closer, presses a sincere kiss to Elio’s cheek, and tells himself that- no matter what- he will remain strong and unemotional, for his own sake as much as Elio's.

That same steadfast conviction remains in place as Oliver later stands with Elio at the train station, gazing down at the sight of Elio before himself looking adorable in shorts and one of Oliver’s shirts, the size of which swamps him considerably. Few words are spoken between them, more said with the soulful looks they give each other than anything else, and then Oliver is giving Elio one last enduring kiss goodbye, ignoring the looks and audible mutters of a few of those assembled as he takes what he needs.

The impression Elio’s lips make on Oliver’s mouth lingers some time later as Oliver sits in the train carriage, watching as the vehicle slowly starts to pull away from the station, taking Oliver away from the things he has come to care about so much. Oliver knows it is going to be two long months before he sees Elio again- physically at least- and already he doesn't know how he's going to cope without seeing Elio’s sweet face every day, and being able to hold him. But one thing that Oliver does know for sure is this- whatever wait he has to suffer through will undoubtedly be worth it in the end.

 

 

 

When it comes to his relationship with Elio, Oliver has always felt like time has never quite been on his side.

Back when they were in Italy time was the limiting factor- the thing that stood between Oliver and every experience he wished to have with Elio, because for the entire duration in which they were together they their union could only last for so long. Now though, time restricts them in other ways- not just because it keeps them apart for the two months until Elio is due to return to America, but also because there is a time difference of six hours between where they reside in their respective places in the world.

Oliver thinks of the separation often- when he awakens each morning to a series of texts and pictures from Elio filling Oliver in on the early part of his day, when he goes to bed each night and knows that Elio is already sound asleep on his side of the world. The time difference also places limits on the contact that they are able to have with each other, because with Oliver at work during the daytime on the average weekday there are only a few hours available for them to spend time together in the only way they possibly can.

The preordained arrangement of such is something that Oliver is thinking about quite determinedly as he hurries back from work one night, mildly irritated at the fact that he has been forced to leave later than originally planned. Although Oliver loves his vocation as a writer specialising in the publication of European history journals, recent increased demands have meant longer hours at the office than Oliver would like. On this day in particular Oliver has been forced to put in a ten-hour stretch, meaning that by the time he is heading back to his apartment the sun is just beginning to set.

As Oliver walks the short distance home he unfastens the top button of his shirt in an attempt to combat the humid weather. Though it is now autumn temperatures of late have been unusually high, and though it's mostly pleasant- particularly as it reminds Oliver of the weeks he spent in Italy- the weather is not without its problems, the most prevalent of which is the fact that Oliver's apartment is lacking in air conditioning... As such, when Oliver enters the residence he finds himself battered by the almost-suffocating heat, prompting him to move quickly through the space opening windows and turning on fans, before eventually taking up position sat on his bed as he reaches for his laptop.

Oliver quickly turns on the device and positions it on the mattress in front of himself, waiting impatiently as the screen flickers into life. As soon as he is able to Oliver selects the option to initiate a videocall, practically holding his breath as he listens to the dial tone that starts to sound, anxious to see if anyone is going to answer. Mercifully, after a few short moments the ringing sound ends, and a welcome sight appears.

“Hi...” Elio mumbles blearily.

The view on Oliver's laptop screen is of Elio's bedroom- the scene dark, signifying the lateness of the hour, but dimly illuminated by a small lamp on the bedside table. Elio is lying on the bed, bare-chested and with the bedsheets pulled up to his waist as he reclines there on his side, his head propped up on one folded arm, and it is the most wonderful part of Oliver's entire day.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs happily. “I wasn't sure you'd still be up”.

“Mm, I wasn't exactly... I tried to stay awake for you but I must have drifted off at some point. The sound of you calling woke me up”.

“I'm sorry... I'm unbelievably pleased to see you, of course, but you really didn't have to wait up for me”.

“But it's your birthday...”

It's true, though it has not felt like such. For Oliver it has been a day like any other- a long episode of work only broken up by lunch with colleagues- and though it has been pleasant enough Oliver has been waiting all along for his time with Elio, knowing it will be the highlight. Of course Oliver was originally concerned that the lateness of the hour might mean that Elio would be asleep long before he returned home and therefore they would have missed the opportunity to chat, so seeing him now is immensely reassuring, not to mention rewarding.

“Happy birthday to you...” Elio murmurs in a singsong voice, smiling at Oliver though the laptop screen.

“Thank you... How are things in Italy? Are your parents well?”

“Mm-hmm. Everyone’s fine. I miss you...”

The sentiment is something Elio has expressed daily since he and Oliver were separated, communicated most often in the form of the pictures Elio sends. They are always of a similar vein- images of the activities Elio is participating in and the sights he sees, accompanied by words that fill Oliver with familiar fondness: _“The sun is shining today, and I miss you”. “My parents are having a party this evening, and I miss you”. “I wish you were here with me, in my bed, inside of me, and I miss you”._ Oliver reads the messages daily, thinks of Elio and smiles, and counts down the seconds until they can be together once more.

“Only two weeks to go...” Elio says- clearly thinking along the same lines as Oliver is.

Oliver smiles widely, gazing adoringly at the image of Elio on his screen.

“I know... Are you looking forward to returning to America?”

“Yeah, I just wish I could come see you straight away. I get back in just a few days, Olly- I know I don't start at the university until later but that doesn't mean I couldn't head to the city a bit earlier...”

Oliver lets out a quiet sigh, because although the idea of that is immensely appealing it comes with complications too. The last thing Oliver wants is to distract Elio from what is likely to be one of the most important periods in his life- particularly during those initial few weeks when it will be necessary for Elio to settle in to his new routine and to bond with his classmates. They will see each other before long and will be able to spend endless amounts of time together, and therefore as far as Oliver sees it there is little reason to rush- not when they have their whole lives ahead of them.

“You know I'm excited to see you, Elio...” Oliver says eventually. “But we've waited for almost two months now so I'm sure we can wait a little bit longer, okay? I'm happy to settle for us both just being in the same timezone for once...”

Elio's face screws up briefly and Oliver is sure he is about to start grumbling quietly, but after a moment Elio instead lets out a soft sigh and shifts closer, granting Oliver an even better view of Elio's body, leading Oliver to believe that he is entirely naked beneath the sheets. Oliver moves closer to his laptop in turn, staring at the screen and willing the covers to fall down just a little, because although Oliver has received a number of nude videos and images of Elio over the past several weeks and he certainly has enough memories to keep him going, he still finds himself wanting more.

“Yeah, I guess that might be nice...” Elio replies, before stifling a large yawn. “No more video chats at two in the morning leaving me too tired to give you your birthday present...”

“Present?” Oliver asks, raising his eyebrows in interest.

Elio nods, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face.

“There was going to be a kind of naked birthday dance, but now...” Elio pauses, bringing his hand to cover his mouth as he yawns loudly once more. “Now I'm just too tired...”

Instantly Oliver's mind begins to run away with itself, imagining what a ‘naked birthday dance' from Elio might look like, but it seems like Oliver is going to be denied such a spectacle as Elio immediately lies down fully and wraps his arms around the pillow, his face visibly relaxing and his eyelids lowering slightly.

“Of course, you realise you'll pay for all this teasing once when we're reunited...” Oliver murmurs, a hint of playful warning in his voice.

Elio smiles happily. “I was counting on it...”

Though Oliver would dearly like to stay up into the night talking to Elio, it is clear that the decidedly sleepy-looking figure on Oliver's screen is not going to be able to hold out. It’s oddly painful to be able to see Elio, to want so desperately to reach out to him but to not be able to, and not for the first time Oliver finds himself thinking about the time they have left until they are due to be reunited once more. The past several weeks have been difficult, arduous, but ultimately necessary because every minute only brings Oliver closer to that which he needs, desires, and ultimately- loves...

The sentiment has been within Oliver’s thoughts for some time now, repressed but not restricted, filling Oliver's heart with potent feeling. More than once Oliver has thought about telling Elio but has held back for a number of reasons, most prevalent of which is the fact that Oliver knows he wants to physically be there with Elio when he says the words, so that he can clearly see the effect that they make. But secondary to that is a small worry- that the way Oliver feels will not be reciprocated, because Oliver is not accustomed to speaking freely and being rewarded for such. There’s a part of Oliver that fears speaking first, that doesn't want to say or do anything that might risk damaging the affection they share, because for all Oliver knows this is just some fun little fling to Elio- a summer romance, that has not yet proved its worth in winter.

Oliver thinks over such a thing as he watches Elio settle down, as he smiles fondly at the sight of Elio looking all sleepy and adorable. Elio yawns loudly, reaches towards the laptop in front of him, and before he signs off he opens his mouth presumably to wish Oliver a good night as he always does before he goes to sleep. But instead, before the image on the screen disappears, there is another set of words- ones that Oliver did not expect to hear in the least.

“ _Ti amo_...” Elio mumbles. And then, he is gone.

For a while afterwards Oliver can only sit there, staring at the blank screen as the words reverberate in his brain, like a ripple caused after an impact. There is no need for translation this time- Oliver knows exactly what Elio said because he has heard the sentiment before, most often expressed between Elio and his parents, because they were never short of affection for each other. Still, even though Oliver has heard the words in the past they are still so unfamiliar, because Elio has never once said anything of the kind to Oliver- not until now.

With Elio no longer visible Oliver has no way of knowing if Elio meant what he said, or whether it was just an accidental disclosure brought about by his grogginess after being woken up from sleep. One thing is for sure- now, more than ever, Oliver is going to be counting down the seconds until he sees Elio again, all the time wondering if the developments of the evening will in any way prompt a similar disclosure from his own heart, or whether Oliver will decide it is not better to speak after all.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

Following Elio's night-time disclosure the contact that he has with Oliver becomes noticeably less frequent.

Oliver tries to tell himself that everything's fine, that Elio is just busy packing and planning for his return to America, but deep down Oliver knows that he is concerned by their lack of contact. For the entirety of the two months they have been separated Oliver and Elio have spoken daily, exchanging images and messages continually and videochatting at least once a day. Now all Oliver receives from Elio is occasional texts and no pictures, leaving Oliver with a heavy feeling in his heart as he tries to determine what has gone wrong.

Naturally, Oliver has his suspicions about what may have caused Elio to withdraw so suddenly. He remembers speaking to Elio online, seeing Elio's sleepy face as he mumbled: “ _Ti amo_...”- words that have resonated in Oliver’s heart and mind ever since. Whether Elio actually meant what he said or not still remains to be seen, all Oliver knows is how desperately he wants it to be true, and how much he _needs_ Elio to feel the same way as Oliver himself feels deep within his heart.

As the days pass by for the most part Oliver tries not to worry, focuses on work and his friends and whatever other distractions are at hand, continues to send messages to Elio as usual- for the most part remaining as reserved as he normally is, but eventually becoming more effusive with time. Oliver _misses_ Elio terribly, more so now he can't even see Elio's face in the form of photographs anymore, and as such Oliver can't help opening up to Elio just that little bit more- telling him often just how much he is looking forward to seeing him again.

By the time the weekend arrives it has been three days since Oliver and Elio last spoke to each other during their videochat. There have been various texts exchanged in the meantime but it's undeniable that the measure of affection between them has lessened, and though Oliver is reassured every time he receives a message from Elio that ends with a flurry of kisses, he is still very much aching for the real thing. For the most part though Oliver puts the topic from mind, and tries to focus on his daily life.

A day of reprieve from work enables Oliver to get up early for a morning run, to have a long leisurely breakfast before eventually settling down to read for a while, a cup of coffee in hand. As Oliver relaxes he receives a few messages from Elio that punctuate his day, and that make his heart yearn longingly in response. Oliver sends back a number of texts in return- mostly idle chatter along with details of what he has been up to that day- but amidst the exchange Oliver mentions the fact that they will be seeing each other again in little over a week, and is reassured when Elio quickly replies to say that he cannot wait.

Oliver doesn't realise just how true that sentence is until much later that day. It is early in the afternoon, and Oliver has taken a break from reading to sit at his laptop- initially telling himself that he is just going to check his emails, but instead finding himself hovering around the button to initiate a videocall. After a moment Oliver inhales a deep breath and decides that he just needs to try, to see if the distance he has been feeling between himself and Elio is all just in his head, but before Oliver can select the option there is a knock at his door which disrupts his actions.

Oliver is not expecting visitors, and as such he cannot help but frown slightly as he gets up and walks over to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side. Even without considering the subject too intently Oliver knows he harbours a small hope about who it might be, though the circumstance would certainly be unlikely. But as Oliver opens the door he immediately sees Elio standing there, and his wish becomes very much a reality.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, knowing he is staring rather helplessly, but finding he is unable to stop.

Elio looks adorable as usual- dressed for the heat in shorts and a t-shirt, his hair slightly longer than Oliver remembers, immediately prompting a need in Oliver to pull Elio close and slide his hands into those thick brown locks, to hold on tight as he kisses Elio. As it is though Oliver can only stare, captivated by the sight of Elio and the proximity of his presence after they have been apart for so long.

“Why are you here?” Oliver asks- not ungrateful for the fact, but needing explanation nonetheless.

Instantly Elio's face starts to flush with colour, making him seem younger and more vulnerable than ever.

“I missed you...” Elio says eventually, the words hushed and uncertain. As they stand there staring at each other Elio's discomfort becomes increasingly apparent, manifesting in the way he shifts uncomfortably from side-to-side and screws up his mouth. Consequently Oliver can’t help but reach for him, wrapping his arms around Elio and lifting him up, prompting Elio to let out a small laugh that is both surprised and delighted at the same time.

Elio holds on tight as Oliver turns around and starts to carry him inside the apartment, using one foot to push the door closed behind them both as meanwhile Elio drops the bag he is carrying to the floor. It's perhaps not the most practical thing for Oliver to do, to transport Elio inside whilst keeping his face buried in Elio's chest, compromising his vision as he moves through the rooms. But nevertheless Oliver cannot seem to pull away, cannot stop inhaling the scent of Elio as he holds onto him ardently, coveting the feel and form of him after so many weeks of absence. Of course it probably comes as no surprise to either of them when Oliver stubs his toe as he carries Elio into the bedroom, causing Oliver to let out a grunt of pain as he stumbles over towards the bed and drops down onto it with Elio still in his arms, so that Elio ends up pinned underneath Oliver’s body.

“Owwww....” Oliver groans, pressing his face into the mattress and grimacing, whilst meanwhile Elio laughs softly and slides his fingers into Oliver’s hair, stroking through soothingly.

“Are you okay?” Elio asks gently, though there is still some amusement evident in the tone of his voice.

Oliver can manage little more than a pained murmur in response, prompting Elio to turn his face and press his mouth to Oliver's neck, kissing him softly. The pain lessens at that, drawn out by the gentle caress of Elio's lips, but Oliver still remains sprawled over Elio for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of him. Eventually Oliver rises up to rest on his forearms, at that point reaching to gently caress Elio's jawline with his thumb, gazing down at him adoringly.

“Hi...” Oliver says quietly. “You look different”.

It's not just Elio's hair that has changed, even if that’s the main thing that distracts Oliver’s attention as he slides his hands into it, entwining his fingers in soft brown locks. A closer appraisal of Elio lets Oliver notice other differences- subtle changes that soon have him inching his hands up under Elio's shirt, caressing Elio's slightly-more-rounded stomach with gentle fingertips.

Elio squirms slightly, chewing on his lower lip.

“Mafalda...” Elio offers, apparently in response to the question Oliver never asked. “Evidently she was worried that I was a bit depressed after you left, so she kept following me around with plates of food just to make sure I ate something”.

“Mm, so I see...” Oliver murmurs appreciatively, shifting lower down on the mattress so he can press his face into Elio's soft belly, enjoying his marginally fuller figure.

It's intoxicating being close to Elio once more, feeling the warmth of his body, inhaling the scent of his skin. For a while Oliver can only lie there, resting against Elio, feeling like everything he needs in the world is right here in his arms. Clearly it’s a sentiment Elio shares, because after a moment he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing slow circles against the back of Oliver’s neck as he whispers: “I've missed you, Olly...”

Oliver smiles, turning his face to press a kiss to the skin of Elio's abdomen.

“I've missed you too... It's _so_ good to see you again”.

“I'm glad you think so. I wasn't sure if I should come, but I wanted to see you. I _needed_ to”.

“Really?” Oliver replies, before taking a deep breath and adding: “I wasn't sure you still wanted to spend time with me- you’ve been so quiet these past few days...”

It's something that is still plaguing Oliver's thoughts, of course- the question of why Elio has been so distant recently. Oliver desperately wants answers, because even though he is close to Elio physically he still feels somewhat of an emotional disconnect; a separation between them that he is keen to set aside. It seems though that Elio isn't going to be forthcoming with any kind of explanation as he remains mute for a long time, prompting Oliver to rise up onto his forearms and shift forward, so he can look at Elio's face once more.

“Talk to me...” Oliver requests softly.

Elio is looking away, his head turned to the side, the expression on his face contemplative as he scrunches up his mouth in the way Oliver has always found incredibly endearing. This time it prompts worry though, because the reunion between them should be a happy occasion but instead Elio seems sad and unsure. It comes as some relief though that Elio is still there, that he hasn't tried to leave at all, and Oliver is reassured further when Elio lets out a quiet sigh before responding at last.

“I was embarrassed...” Elio says quietly.

“Embarrassed? About what?”

“About... about what I said, the last time we spoke online...”

With Elio's words Oliver finally has clarity, but it's oddly crushing because the last thing Oliver wants is for Elio to have any regrets about any aspect of their involvement- particularly in regards to something as profound as what he said. The declaration meant so much to Oliver, it still does, so the last thing Oliver wants to hear is that Elio wishes it had never happened. But just as Oliver's heart feels like it might be breaking, he is reassured when Elio's expression shifts from sad to something more like sulking, and his voice takes on a grumbling tone as he mutters: “You never said it back...”

Oliver’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I didn't have time to say anything- you ended the call, Elio”.

Finally Elio turns his head to look at Oliver, and his expression is plainly disbelieving.

“Huh? No I didn’t- you did... Um, didn't you...?”

Elio's conviction appears to fade as he stares at Oliver, and Oliver can practically see his mind whirring- thinking back over what happened that night. When they had their videochat it was two in the morning for Elio, and as such it's probably not that surprising that his memory of the event might be somewhat fuzzy given how tired he was at the time. It's clear that Elio has arrived at his own conclusions about what happened, conclusions that evidently do not match up with what actually transpired, and Oliver can't help but smile adoringly as he gazes down at Elio, charmed by the adorably befuddled look on Elio's face.

“You know, come to think of it my memory of that night isn’t so great either...” Oliver says, smiling slyly. “Why don't you tell me what you said again...”

Instantly Elio's eyes go wide and his face starts to flush with colour, and he looks so cute it's almost impossible for Oliver to resist the urge to lean down and kiss him, because it’s been two months since they were last together and Oliver still has not forgotten how it feels to kiss Elio's soft lips, the little murmurs that he makes- everything. But on this occasion Oliver is sure it will be worth it to be patient, to smile down at Elio and wait expectantly for those words Oliver has not been able to stop thinking about, because they resound within his heart always.

It takes some time to happen, numerous seconds passing by during which they merely regard each other in comfortable silence. Eventually Elio reaches for Oliver, slides his arm around Oliver's broad shoulders and pulls him closer, presses his face into Oliver’s neck as if he wishes to hide there, and Oliver knows he would let him and not ask for anything more. But then Elio murmurs slightly, as if the start of a sentence is just forming in his mouth and he’s having a hard time getting it out, and in the next breath comes the hushed disclosure: “I love you, Olly...”

Oliver smiles warmly, holds Elio closer in turn, starts to press a succession of soft kisses to Elio's cheek and jawline, trailing over his face slowly as Elio moans quietly in response, until eventually Oliver reaches Elio’s lips at last.

“I love you too...” Oliver murmurs, lingering just long enough to see Elio’s face brighten in recognition before leaning down to kiss him.

After waiting for so long the tension is almost unbearable as Oliver and Elio start to kiss slowly and passionately, clinging onto each other as they embrace. Considering Oliver is still lying in-between Elio's spread legs it isn't long before he is grinding against Elio heatedly, his cock achingly hard as he rubs it against Elio's through the layers of their clothing. Oliver wants Elio to be naked, wants to feel the heat of Elio’s skin against his own, but it's difficult to pull away from Elio for even a second, and as such it takes entirely too long for Oliver to lift Elio's t-shirt up, to pull at the fastenings of his shorts so he can slide his hand inside. Elio moans as Oliver touches him, his cock hard and already slick with pre-come, and the need to elicit further sounds prompts Oliver to begin to trail his lips down Elio's torso, sliding Elio's shorts and underwear down at the same time.

As soon as Elio is naked from the waist down Oliver wastes no time in taking Elio’s cock in his mouth, sucking generously as Elio moans and slides his hands into Oliver’s hair, gripping tight. It's incredible to be so close to Elio again, to listen to the sounds of his evident pleasure, and Oliver knows he would happily spend the rest of the night with his head buried in-between Elio's legs, sucking Elio's cock as he writhes desperately. But as it is Oliver barely spends two minutes there before Elio is groaning and pushing at Oliver's head, making Oliver withdraw to sit back on his folded legs, looking at Elio curiously.

“Elio?” Oliver starts. “What's wrong? Don’t you like it?”

Instantly Oliver is reassured by the way Elio starts to smile, though the expression is somewhat abashed.

“I like it a lot- that's the problem. You'll kill me if you keep doing that”.

“I hope not... Though I suppose it would be fitting. _La petite mort_... Maybe we should just start slow, hmm?”

Elio nods happily, and moments later they are kissing once more- lips pressed firmly together, bodies entwined. By the time they are both entirely naked Oliver is more than understanding of Elio's need to not do anything _too_ stimulating, because after so long apart every sensual touch from Elio is enough to have Oliver groaning heatedly, feeling like he is close to climax at any moment. As it is Oliver manages to hold off, focuses on Elio as he seizes Elio by the hips and manoeuvres him so he is on top, giving Oliver the freedom to slowly trail his fingertips down the line in-between Elio's buttocks. When Elio mumbles his approval against Oliver’s lips Oliver reaches over to his bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lubricant, squeezing some onto his fingers before starting to trace Elio's entrance in slow circles.

Prep is slow and leisurely, borne both of a need to ensure Elio is properly ready for sex and a desire to just enjoy the moment, because it is infinitely pleasurable to be with Elio again for the first time in so long, meaning Oliver is happy to take his time. When Elio has been prepared Oliver withdraws his fingers and follows Elio’s lead as Elio rolls to the side, taking up position lying on his stomach on the mattress, his hips slightly raised. The sense of desire running through Oliver’s body is almost overwhelming as he moves to kneel behind Elio, as he slides a condom onto his achingly hard cock before smearing it with lubricant. Elio watches Oliver throughout it all, clearly as devoted to the act as Oliver is, before reaching back as Oliver moves into position, squeezing Oliver’s thigh with one hand.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs as he grasps Elio's hips, as he braces the head of his cock against Elio's hole and starts to push inside, groaning at the sensation of it, how tight Elio is, how _good_ it feels. Oliver moves slowly as he always does at first, easing Elio into it, leaning over Elio fully as he pushes all the way in, his chest flush against Elio's back. Though Oliver doesn't want to crush Elio he _needs_ to be close to him, wants to feel the steady rhythm of Elio's heartbeat thrumming through his body, perceivable against Oliver's chest. Clearly Elio doesn't mind as he only murmurs happily, remaining sprawled against the mattress as Oliver starts to thrust into him.

They remain pressed flush together throughout the act, Oliver watching Elio devotedly, enraptured by the expression of pure bliss on Elio’s face. He looks so beautiful that Oliver can't help reaching to touch him, brushing the pad of his thumb against Elio's lower lip, prompting Elio to take Oliver’s thumb into his mouth before starting to suck on it. They remain that way as the act continues- Oliver rocking into Elio in slow, deep thrusts, Elio sucking on Oliver's thumb or fingers throughout, both of them moaning at the intense pleasure of the encounter. Eventually Oliver slides his hand down in-between Elio's legs, grasps hold of Elio's cock and starts to rapidly move his hand along the shaft, and then it is only a few moments before Elio is gasping and coming, his seed coating Oliver's hand as Oliver strokes him through it.

“Let me see you...” Elio mumbles as soon as he has finished coming. “Please, Olly...”

Oliver's limbs are heavy and cumbersome but he manages to drop to the side, lying there completely compliant as Elio reaches down to remove the condom and immediately wrapping his hand around Oliver’s cock. Being touched by Elio is heaven enough but then to Oliver’s surprise Elio shifts further down on the bed, bringing his mouth to Oliver's member before immediately sliding his lips around it, prompting Oliver to groan and reach down to grasp Elio's hair. Already Oliver is so incredibly turned on that it really takes very little effort from Elio to have Oliver climaxing, barely getting out a warning before he starts to come in Elio's mouth- not that Elio seems to mind. He continues to suck Oliver through it, until the point when Oliver is completely spent and hypersensitive, at which point Elio withdraws and crawls up the bed so he can lie beside Oliver once more.

“Come here...” Oliver murmurs, opening his arms wide and smiling as Elio immediately crawls into them.

With Elio in his arms Oliver feels like he has everything he needs. It's everything Oliver has thought about for the last two months and now he has it, and as Oliver lies there and turns his face to press a fond kiss to Elio's forehead he can't help but think of a million other moments like this- every intimacy Oliver hopes to have with Elio in the future.

“Elio...” Oliver murmurs, before quickly realising that Elio is already starting to fall asleep. “Elio, Elio, Elioooo...”

“Buh? Wha?”

Oliver trails his fingertips slowly up and down Elio's spine, smiling as Elio snuggles closer and presses his face into Oliver's chest, his hand reaching up to play with the gold chain around Oliver’s neck. After a moment Elio goes quiet again and his breathing begins to deepen, and it is clear that he is going to drift off to sleep at any moment if Oliver doesn't stop him first.

“Elio... How long do we have together until you start at the university?”

“Umm, around a week... But we can still see each other all the time when I don't have classes, right? Well, for now at least- until the winter break”.

“And what happens then?”

Elio yawns loudly, before replying: “Italy. My family and I go there in winter as well as summer”.

“I see...”

Oliver lapses into silence, and although he feels somewhat stupid for immediately being concerned about the idea of not seeing Elio for weeks, he cannot seem to help it. Already separation from Elio has proved very hard to handle and Oliver does not want to do it again, but he knows he will if he has to- he will do whatever it takes to be with Elio.

As it happens though, salvation is unexpectedly at hand.

“You could come with us...”

The words are mumbled from Elio's lips, quiet on account of the fact that Elio is clearly drowsy, but Oliver hears them anyway even if he can't quite believe they are genuine.

“Really?” Oliver asks, needing to be sure.

Elio nods, his hair brushing against Oliver's chest.

“My parents have already said they’d love to have you, there’s just one condition...”

Oliver tilts his head to look down at Elio, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waits for explanation. In response Elio smiles softly up at Oliver, his expression somewhat mischievous which only confuses Oliver further, until Elio explains.

“You really need to work on your Italian...”

Instantly Oliver starts to laugh, squeezing Elio tight and pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of his head.

“Alright then”, Oliver replies, smiling widely. “Whatever you say”.


End file.
